Disturbia
by FreyrFnk
Summary: AU. Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes those events are a prelude to worse scenarios. Inspired by 'Disturbia'. Rating for drug refs, explicit behaviors, adult situations.
1. Prologue

**Description: **Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes they are only the gateway to even worse scenarios. Based loosely on 'Disturbia'. _Loosely _based means loosely. Meaning someone is going to die, there is a perverted murderer who hides bodies in his basement, an asshole will get knocked out and someone's gonna get put on house-arrest. Fun times.

**Warnings:** References to illegal behavior; vandalism, theft, fleeing from the police and extensive cursing. There is also mild modification to Neji's age, although I am not sure exactly how old I want him to be. Shikamaru is 17 in this chapter, I guess Neji is around 22. Seems reasonable enough. Not too young for his job title and not too old that it's just stupid. Besides we all know he's a goddamn over-achiever so the bastard probably graduated high-school at fifteen.

**Rating: **PG for this chapter ; NOT Beta'd - Edited

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Shit. Shit. Shit. He tried to pick up the pace, really did, but there was only so fast a person could run for so long even while being pumped with adrenaline. The fact that they were fleeing from a _car _didn't help in the slightest, the only hope either teen had of successful escape was dipping between buildings and darting through narrow alleys filled with the usual after-midnight urchin. His lungs heaved and bitched with the strain of continually drawing in pathetic amounts of heavy, humid air. Nara Shikamaru was _not _a person to normally be bothered by troublesome things such as _running. _This however, was a special occasion and the brunette had no intentions of offering a repeat performance. He regretted wearing the long sleeved, black shirt even if it was thin. The pants were no better and both top and bottom clung to his sweaty skin, chafing the over-sensitized surfaces of his body.

Fuck. Fuck FUCK. He was going to murder Kiba. It was all the goddamned Inuzuka's fault, him and his stupid fucking _Puppy eyes_ and smooth words that Shikamaru _knew _was anything but innocent and as stupid as it was, he said yes. Lazy, genius bastard he may be but the Nara had a penchant for mischief that, while more subtle than Naruto's was there none-the-less. Shikamaru was very much wishing he'd continued on with his boring and uneventful night and gone to fucking sleep. But no. Kiba called, Kiba wanted him to pick some locks for him, Kiba said it would all be in good fun, _Kiba _insisted that they were just going to break in, post up some embarrassing shit and _leave. _The most important part of this was that nothing was supposed to be damaged or stolen. Shikamaru wasn't an idiot, he should have guessed when that little gleam flickered in Kiba's eyes that the fucking dog-lover had more in mind than a harmless prank.

Now they were running from Konoha police, sweating and panting and facing breaking and entering, vandalism, trespassing and theft charges… Shikamaru also equated fleeing from the authorities to this on-gowing list of misdemeanors that would probably be felonies before the night was over. 'Kaasan was going to be furious. The teen stumbled around a corner, slipping in a puddle of something he didn't want to name and stumbling, arms flailing as a string of creative vulgarities flew from chapped, cracking lips. Shikamaru just barely caught his balance, sides heaving and a pain springing to life in his side as his mind raced through possibilities and options all of which ended rather badly. He rounded another corner with more grace and was met with an empty horizon that ended in a tall chain-link fence with dumpsters pressed against the other side and no Kiba. Great. Fucking lovely. How much more cliché and unlucky could he get! Kiba dipped on him, didn't even look over his shoulder to make sure his partner-in-crime made it okay. "Bastard." The Nara hissed, legs trembling as his braced himself against his knees, breath heaving out in oxygen starved heaves.

He needed to move, to go. To get the fuck away from here before the sirens reached him. They were already disconcertingly loud. Move. Shikamaru cursed under his breath, why did everything have to be so troublesome? Why did he agreed to this insanity! Footfalls behind him alerted the teen to an approaching body and Shikamaru forced himself into an unsteady jog, closing the distance impossibly slow.

"HAULT!"

Dammit. Shikamaru staggered to a standstill at the resounding voice, never raised in an actual shout but still managing to echo down the alley. Chocolate eyes slid shut, lips mumbling through a slew of vulgarities that would have earned him a mouthful of soap from Obaasan. "Raise your hands where I can see them, place them behind your head and spread your legs… shoulder width." Firm, commanding with the slight edge of a threat and closely followed by the sharp clap of shoes against cement. The gait was long, graceful and suggested the owner of those steps was tall, probably large and definitely not someone he could overpower. Fuck. Not that Shikamaru really considered it an option, the man probably had a gun drawn and he wasn't stupid enough to assault an officer.

"Are you in possession of any weapons, drugs or other paraphernalia?"Shikamaru shook his head, the voice was clipped now, calmer and didn't sound in the least winded from what must have been quite the dash.

"No, sir."

Shikamaru's attempt at calm was shattered by the hoarse, winded quality of his voice and the pounding of his heart. He was so screwed, 'Kaasan was going to kill him and 'Tousan would probably shake his head in disappointment that, in a way, was more hurtful than anything Yoshino could sputter. The officer was close, the hair on the back of Shikamaru's neck rose in response to the proximity. Hands patting down his arms, sides, chest, hips, crotch, legs, dipping into the sides of his shoes and making their way back up left tingles through his muscles. Shikamaru grit his teeth against the intrusion of space, he could have at least warned him about the pat down.

"Seems you're clean." One of those slightly calloused hands grabbed his wrist, clasping the cold metal of a cuff around it and twisting it back behind him to be joined by another.

"You are being arrested for breaking and entering, vandalism, burglary, trespassing and fleeing from an officer. You have the right to remain silent as any and everything can and will be used against you in a court of law." All of this spoken in clipped, dispassionate tones as the officer grabbed Shikamaru's upper arm and hauled him back down the alley. He was so screwed.

Shikamaru glanced from his peripheral, sizing up the man dragging him along as he spoke softly into a transmitter. He was wrong, the officer was only about four or five inches taller than himself and had the haughty, refined features of an aristocrat and long, chocolate brown hair. The Nara wanted to snort in derision, this guy was a fucking cop? He looked more like the men from the covers of stock-marketing magazines with too much time and money. They were met halfway by men in uniform, panting out of breath and nodding at the regal figure dragging him toward an patrol car.

"Inspector Hyūga, Sir!" The two officers saluted and smirked at the teen scowling next to this 'Inspector'.

'_No wonder he didn't look like a cop. He really isn't one at all.' _

Figures, he'd be caught and dragged in by someone with rank. Shikamaru did sigh this time, shoulders managing to slump even in the bruising grip of the officer. A Hyūga, one of the most prominent families in Konoha who were all tied up in Legal affairs. Hiashi Hyūga was THE Commissioner for Konoha City, he knew, Shikamaru went to school with his daughter, Hinata. If only he had the foresight for _this _he might have spent some time trying to befriend her.

The seat of the patrol car was firm and unforgiving, Inspector Hyūga slid into the passenger seat while one of the officer's took the driver's seat. The lights were flicked off as they headed for the police department.

"Where did your friend go? I thought there were two of you." The Inspector didn't even look back as he spoke, but Shikamaru could see those opal eyes glancing at him in the rear-view mirror.

'_Tch.'_ "He ran, took off and left. 'Dunno where he is." A carefully blank tone that wavered when Shikamaru watched the _Inspector _smirk at his reflection. Dark eyes narrowed, what the fuck?

"No morals among criminals, hmn?" Shikamaru felt himself bristle at the remark but he just rolled his eyes and grumbled a 'troublesome' before looking anywhere but at the smug asshole. Shikamaru allowed his head to thud back in the silence. He'd be damned if Kiba got of free, there was NO WAY he was taking all these charges, hopefully they'd offer to lighten the sentencing if he sold the asshole out.

At the station they had him untie and remove his shoelaces and hand over any personal effects before being taken back and dropped unceremoniously on a bench to await booking. Fuck. The Nara groaned, eyes closing as he slouched on the bench. Might as well take a nap while he waited for shit to hit the proverbial fan.

"So who was your friend? Maybe we can work something out if you give us his name, it would be a shame for you to take the fall for everything. It's also hard to pin someone for theft when they don't have anything stolen on them." The soft voice sounded amused and Shikamaru wanted to tell the smug bastard to suck one. He didn't, he calmly opened his eyes and observed the Inspector, brain firing off on thought. Shame he'd already made his decision about this as soon as the handcuffs locked around his wrist.

"You don't have to play dirty, I planned on giving his name anyway. Inuzuka Kiba." The Inspector seemed mildly surprised, one fine brow arched , maybe it was just a silent expression to make fun of him. Shikamaru just hoped it was surprise that yes, he'd seen through the bullshit and no he wasn't going to play their games. The teen looked away from the chilled appraisal in those eyes, mumbled about things being 'troublesome' and waited for the officers to come book him. The sound of a door closing was his only alert that Inspector Hyūga had left.

The booking was tedious and boring. Nara Shikamaru, five feet and six inches, dark-brown hair and brown eyes. One lip piercing and a stud in each ear. He had no tattoos or any other body modifications that could be used to identify him. He was handed a slip with his bond price, a good thirty-thousand yen* and a court date set for two weeks from then, they were being quite efficient. Shikamaru scowled down at the paper, glad for the tiny miracle that he could be bailed with a minimum of 10% of the total bond. 'Kaasan would have murdered him… speaking of which Shikamaru was certain he could hear her raving at the poor officers. The teen took what comfort he could that they were having their ears bitched off as they came and escorted him into a lobby to lace his shoes, grab his cell and wallet and head to the front.

"NARA SHIKAMARU! What the hell is wrong with you! Have you lost your mind? Breaking into a school? Didn't I raise you better than that? Vandalism on top of it AND you ran from the cops?" Yoshino didn't even think to greet her son as he marched sullenly out with the officer who had an expression that plainly said he was glad Yoshino was not his mother. Shikamaru just tuned her out eyes scouting his father chatting with the Inspector who'd arrested him on the other side of the lobby. He heaved another sigh, "Troulesome."

"Troublesome? You think _this _is _troublesome?_ Just wait 'til you get home young-man! It'll be a cold day in hell before you're allowed out of the house again!" Yoshino's admonishing continued, finger jabbing at him, dark eyes blazing in fury and hair fly-away from her anxiety. Troublesome, overbearing woman… why had his father _married _the banshee?

"Give 'em a break, Yoshino. Seems Mr. Inuzuka had a bit of a hand in all this." Shikaku eyed his son in a way that said quite plainly that it better be the truth or he was in deeper shit than he was already in. Shikamaru met his eyes levelly as Yoshino faded into a thoughtful silence before huffing and pivoting on her heel to storm out of the police station.

"I don't want to EVER see that miscreant at my house again. You understand me Shikamaru?" She called over her shoulder harshly with a scorching glance. The Inspector watched it all with a smug expression. Shikaku nodded after a moment,

"Come on then, better go before she explodes. Hehe." Shikamaru rolled his eyes at his father's blasé smile before the two left the station. At least he knocked theft off his list of charges and all still ranked as misdemeanor, thank god the vandalism wasn't something like graffiti (which was more Kiba's style) and just some accidentally broken merchandise. The drive home was silent and oppressive and once home it was even worse. All of his connection with the outside world was gone; phone, internet and online gaming. Internet would be restricted for school usage only and Shikamaru didn't think he had any upcoming projects. He was grounded indefinitely, probably until they found out how steep the repercussions. Shikamaru sighed and flopped back onto his bed as he watched the sun's pre-dawn rays cast a pink tint of light across his ceiling. Sleep came almost unexpectedly.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>1 Month Later<strong>

Kiba was pissed that Shikamaru sold him out, the hot-headed Inuzuka approached him the day after they were arrested (at different times of course) demanding to know why he sold him out. According to Kiba, Shikamaru was a snitch and a shitty friend because he… out-ed him. Shikamaru's response was to silently wonder how the fuck Kiba could dare accuse him of being a bad friend and a snitch after his ass lied and then abandoned the Nara to the cops! Physically, he was the epitome of boredom with one brow arched cynically and a slow smirk coiling his lips. Kiba shut up rather abruptly after Shikamaru explained to him in short, amused detail WHY he out-ed the Inuzuka. Neeldess to say they weren't exactly on speaking terms any longer.

Shikamaru pondered this as he sat in one of the many rows of chairs filled with quite a few people and waiting for his name to be called to approach the Judge. Juvenile court systems were shitty places to be. They were boring and all the cases were the same shit over and over. Some were amusing, especially the one where the old man with a cast had quite adamantly defended his canine against the 'harassment' of the police he'd called a '_stupid fat fuck'_. The old man wasn't at all ashamed to admit every detail of what he said to the officers; he produced photo evidence that his canine was harmless and even the denials passed by the city for his requests to build a fence to house his dog. Apparently, it was against the law and inhumane to keep one's pet on a chain outside… but it was also against the law to build fencing without a permit. The irony was entertaining. Shikamaru was slightly put out that the judge didn't even bat an eye before ruling in favor of the officers and setting a steep fine of fifty-thousand yen* to be paid off within eight months on the old man. The worst part was the officers snickering to each other through the entire process. Pompous bastards. Shikamaru snorted in derision and Shikaku just shook his head with a frown.

Finally the Judge called the two Nara men to the podium where a put-upon lawyer presented the man with documentation. The Judge only briefly skimmed the paperwork, eyes flitting to and fro before looking up at Shikamaru and Shikaku. The Judge was a rather exuberant looking man who seemed to be having great difficulty sitting still, Shikamaru noted how most of his more… boisterous proclamations left several first timers a bit shocked. He had black hair in a bowl cut and rather… fantastic eyebrows and wore a deep green suit. He looked insane to Shikamaru and had he not known another individual of almost equally eccentric tastes, he might have been appalled.

'_Must be Lee's godfather.' _

That would explain a lot in Shikamaru's eyes, Rock Lee was an assistant teacher for physical education. He was doing his two year 'field experience' by apprenticing at their high-school.

"Nara Shikamaru, charged with vandalism, breaking and entering and fleeing. How do you plea?" Black eyes darted up glimmering with the restraint of holding back explanations of 'youth' and 'vigor' and other such analogies. Shikamaru shuddered, shoulder slouched even in his white dress shirt, hands buried in the pockets of khaki slacks.

"Guilty." Shikaku nodded to his son as Gai jotted something down.

"Very good, it is most invigorating to be faced with such youthful honesty… though one could hope for such youth to embrace a bit more enthusiasm for such actions! For your easy honesty I will bestow upon you the youthful challenge of serving your community! The fine is listed on the slip with details about payments." The Judge offered a glimmering smile and a thumbs up and a very perturbed Shikamaru stalked out of the courtroom grumbling about troublesome judges and their insanity. For his part, Shikaku found it all to be amazingly _amusing _which only served to irk his son further. So much for somber disappointment, Shikamaru'd hardly had a moment's rest from the teasing and jeering. He'd be all for the silence at this point.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Review? The Epilogue may seem to not have much to do with anything at this point, but trust me, it has its purpose and has been served. I hope Gai was… okay and not overly… stupid or out of character.

I was tempted to treat Shikamaru to a similar experience with police arrests as I myself had… with the waving of guns, threatening to be shot, canine unit and strip search. Fun times. And I was only charged constructively for BEING IN THE VEHICLE. However, I am not an asshole (not that much at least) and I couldn't see Neji… going off the deep end like an idiot. So, much more subdued.

The bond may seem steep but I had a discussion about what sorts of charges garner what sorts of bond prices. 3,000 dollars was an approximated amount.

*30,000 yen is equivalent to 3,000 USD

*50,000 yen is equivalent to 5,000 USD

These figures have been approximated and do not take into account EXACT decimal percentages nor the recent decline in US dollar value in foreign countries.

**Music: **

Social Distortion – Death or Glory

Rod Stewar – Maggie May

Monkey Majik – With You

Yoshida Brothers – By this River


	2. Dreary Sunday

**Description: **Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes they are only the gateway to even worse scenarios. Based loosely on 'Disturbia'. _Loosely _based means loosely. Meaning someone is going to die, there is a perverted murderer who hides bodies in his basement, an asshole will get knocked out and someone's gonna get put on house-arrest. Fun times.

**Warnings: **Character death, descriptive scenes, a bit of gore and depression, hospitalization and a dreary funeral.

**Rating: **PG-17 just to be safe

No Beta - Edited

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

**Dreary Sunday **

Three months and he was free now, free from fines and community service and working as a slave to 'Kaasan to pay off his steep debt. Shikamaru still wasn't in the clear but it wasn't nearly as bad as it was before. He was literally scrubbing floors in his fucking _dreams. _It was bordering on insanity and the young Nara couldn't help but admire anyone with the ability to clean compulsively and NOT dream about drowning in cleaning products while being yelled at by a demon with a perplexingly familiar voice and brandishing a broom handle. The last three months were hell. He was put on community service washing police vehicles and cleaning up day care centers. Shikamaru was all for kids, he wanted kids one day after all, but what he _wasn't _'all-for' was cleaning up the mess. How the hell were kids so… messy?

None of that mattered now though, because now he was free and relaxing and currently on a road trip out of Konoha for a Shōgi tournament in Suna with his father and Asuma. The big man was practically Shikamaru's godfather in right if not on paper. Hell, he was closer to the Sarutobi than he was his own dad, a sad fact but a true one none-the-less. Shikamaru and Shikaku shared their own… understanding and bond. They were close and spoke about many things but it just wasn't the same as Asuma. The man listened without judging and dished out what Shikamaru needed to hear in a way that was both reassuring and firm. He had tact that Shikaku lacked, being a man of few words and rather coarse disposition. He was in the military for too long, in Shikamaru's opinion. He retired from duty as a Major to work on the local military base just outside of Konoha city limits as an intelligence analyst. It paid well, plus they got the benefits of his being a retired and decorate veteran but it was hard sometimes, growing up with both parents absorbed thoroughly in work. Thank the gods Shikamaru was docile and superbly intelligent for his age or there would have been no end to mischief and trouble.

The teen coughed and waved a hand, brow and nose creasing unattractively as he waved smoke from his face.

"Asuma, do you have to blow that in my face? It stinks." The Sarutobi barked a laugh as he took another drag from his cigarette and glanced over his shoulder at Shikamaru.

"Do you have to have your window open?" He smirked at Shikamaru's sour expression and murmured 'troublesome' before turning to blow a lungful of smoke out the passenger window. Shikaku smirked from his place in the driver's seat as his son sagged lower in the back of the vehicle, sprawled across the backseat in something that was half sitting and half lying.

"Wouldn't have to have the window down if you two would stop smoking. It stinks." It made his eyes water and his nose itch, the smoke was irritating but neither Asuma nor 'Tousan paid him enough heed to NOT smoke when he was around. Hell, it was probably such a habit by that point they hardly noticed it. Both of the men went on smoking their life away slowly.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes, covering a yawn and turning back to his cloud gazing and wandering thoughts. His stomach fluttered in slight anticipation of a tournament, it meant facing actual, legitimate players. People who were prolific at Shōgi and could challenge or even beat him. Shikamaru smirked at the thought, remembering Asuma's disdain at being completely incapable of beating Shikamaru. On those rare occasions when he did win, the Sarutobi always pressed for knowledge of what was bothering the young Nara. Nothing was always the wrong question but Asuma had this way of leading Shikamaru out of his evasive nature enough to confide in him. The man had first-hand experience after all, being equally if not more evasive than Shikamaru.

Suna was a bit dull, the buildings were all built in earthen hued stone and sharp, tinted glass. Even the streets were paved in auburn cement. It was a bit ridiculous just how much the small city looked like a desert and with the sun beaming down it looked as though it should feel like one. However, they were in the middle of autumn and the flame colored leaves that littered the ground bespoke of crisp, windy weather. It was the perfect cloud gazing weather but Shikamaru didn't have time for that, his mind was reeling with strategy and possibility he was waiting to implement in the tournament. Not that this excitement betrayed itself on his face, half-mast eyes and lips curled down in a pout that he would deny, scanned the parking lot with jaded disinterest. Shikaku parked, stepped out and stretched, followed closely by Asuma and Shikamaru. The Sarutobi grabbed a brown bag, which no doubt contained beer, and the three of them were off. They signed the forms and were given numbers and reclined at a nearby 'table' until the tournament started.

Shikamaru busied himself cloud gazing until a thought sprung itself upon him, smirking the teen stretched dropped shuttered eyes to his father.

"Oi, 'Tousan…" Shikaku turned with a 'hmm' as he sipped at his beer, one elbow tossed atop the table he'd reclined against as he surveyed the incoming people. They were mostly older, probably those who played Shōgi as a pastime or hobby.

"If I win the tournament can I drive home?" He was still smirking as his father turned a perplexed gaze to him and Asuma barked a cherry laugh.

"I say let him drive _if _he can win. People who come to these tournaments usually mean business." Shikaku thought on it a moment with a smirk, why the hell not?

"Sure, kid. If you can win." Shikamaru nodded, drumming his fingers on the table with a yawn while sharp eyes skimmed over the 'prospective opponents'. It should be fun and he was quite confident he could win, the only person he lost to at Shōgi was his father and the man had been in the military for years and worked for the Intel. So… he had a bit of an advantage.

Four and a half hours later a slightly disappointed Shikamaru flopped into the driver's seat of Shikaku's vehicle with a put-upon sigh. Shikaku was laughing at his son. He won, of course, to the utter bafflement of those he played against. Most of them have been playing Shōgi longer than Shikamaru'd been alive.

"Don't look so put-out, kid. You won." Shikaku snickered as he slid into the passenger seat.

"Yeah whatever… it was easier than I thought it'd be." Shikamaru waved him off petulantly, taking the offered key and turning it in the ignition. Asuma chuckled from the back.

"Don't be so smug or it'll catch up to you." Shikamaru made a derisive noise, yeah he knew talking shit would catch up with the shit-talker eventually. He was just stating the facts. Asuma chuckled again as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed out.

"How about some food?" Asuma prompted, draping an arm over the side of Shikamaru's seat.

"Tch. Where? Better not be anywhere too troublesome… and put your seatbelt on, I don't need a ticket." Asuma laughed again at his student's flat drawl, the only inflection being the expression twisting his lips. Shikaku reclined for a good snooze and enjoyed not being the one driving while Asuma directed Shikamaru to a small restaurant. Their stop was brief, deciding to eat the food on the go considering how late it was already becoming and Konoha was a good two hours away. Shikamaru didn't bother telling Asuma to 'buckle-up' again, he hadn't even thought to do so himself as they bantered easily.

"I'd watch out eating like that, unless you want a lecture from Ino." Shikamaru choked on his food, rolling his eyes as he signaled his way onto the interstate and shoved another french fry into his mouth as if to make a blatant point. One brow arched high over half-mast eyes.

"Ino needs to learn to eat something. Skin and bones isn't attractive… she looks like a skeleton." Well maybe not exactly like a skeleton but she was definitely too thin for Shikamaru's tastes. Protruding ribs and hips wasn't tasteful next to taunt skin.

"So you'd find her attractive if she wasn't so thin?" Poke, tease, poke – only a few methods to get a rise out of the kid and Asuma planned to exploit them all. Shikamaru choked on his food, casting a sharp glower over his shoulder.

"That's gross. She's like my sister." Asuma snickered, took a bite from his burger and shrugged.

"I don't think Ino's so bad, better to marry a woman you know than some stranger who doesn't give a shit about you." Shikaku interrupted smoothly, smirk pulling at his lips as the younger Nara shot him a look of incredulity and disgust.

"Yeah because what you married is such an ideal way to go." Shikaku's smirk turned thoughtful.

"You shouldn't judge your mother so harshly, she's actually quite the tender woman." The elder Nara let out a wistful sigh, completely missing the deadpan expression on his son's face but gathering an idea from Asuma's choked laughter.

"Are you kidding? The woman's a SHE-Demon. Always nagging and complaining. Women are troublesome." Shikamaru grumbled out and Shikaku sighed again.

"Can't have kids without a woman, Shikamaru and you know how your mother feels about grandchildren." There was a disbelieving snort from the driver's seat.

"I'm seventeen. We are not having this discussion." Shikaku smirked again.

"C'mon now, we're all men here. No sense being bashful."

Shikamaru cast his father a dark look, lips pressed into a thin line, flicking the turning signal once again as he exited the interstate for a smaller, two-lane highway.

"Why don't you ask Asuma 'bout Kurenai-san then?" He crooned with a smirk as Asuma spluttered and turned a wonderful shade of red. It was no secret the two were together, but that didn't make it any easier for his godfather to divulge 'intimate' details.

"Actually Asuma, how is that going? I don't ever hear any complaints and you do get quite flustered whenever we bring it up…" Shikaku allowed his sentence to trail, brow arched and one eye cracking open. Shikamaru glanced at his father then back to Asuma, whose blanched from scarlet to white, eyes widening. Time seemed to slow as the man lunged for the front of the car, words frozen in his throat as one hand grabbed the steering wheel and jerked to the right.

Not fast enough, time still seemed too slow but everything jumbled together. Happening at once and in flashing segments, like those old films. Shikamaru's eyes snapped from Asuma's face to the road in front of them, to the semi plowing forward and blaring its awful horn. His fingers lost their grip on the steering wheel as Asuma grabbed it and the semi rammed into them. The sound of screaming tires, rubber burning against cement as it was forced from go to almost-stop. The splintering shatter of glass chimed against a sickening crunch of metal folding far too easily, bending and crumbling like paper beneath the weight of the semi.

Fire, smoke, the smell of gas, the sight of Asuma's arm, but no Asuma… no passenger side of the car… and there was so much pain… and where was he? There was no car now… did the semi say 'Jashin Transport'? What was all that red stuff? The pain, blossoming everywhere, and the low mumble of screaming and his mind was oddly blank… a dull buzz of noise and static and incomprehension because the pain was too much and all he could hear was Asuma's scream and the _awful _sound of the horn and smell gas and watch glass splinter and dig into his arms. So much red. Itwas almost black and the fire was so close it was warming his oddly cold body… was he cold? He felt light, weightless and even the pain was nothing compared to the numb haze and black ringing his vision. Where was Asuma… where was 'Tousan? Why couldn't he move? But sleeping sounded like a good idea, because the pain would go away and all that… _red, _that awful fucking stench would be gone and the fire would be gone and everything would just be _dark _and _cold _and _numb. _

Red lights, flashing round and round. Why was everything fucking red? He hated it, the color was disgusting. It made his stomach clench uncomfortably. A tiny voice, gagging and screaming in a muted corner of his brain was demanding he acknowledge something that was _wrong, _very wrong, but he couldn't because his heart suddenly hurt and his lungs wouldn't expand and… who were those people over him? White with masks, sticking something in his arm, flashing some light in his eyes. What was that beeping? It sounded so faint, stuttering as though it would stop any second now and he just wanted to go to sleep because their voices hurt but he couldn't understand them at all and the pain was trying to come back. Whatever they gave him had done the trick because the pain was going, receding like the tide to bliss and numbness and everything went black again.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

_Beep… beep… beep…_

Would it ever shut up? It was insufferably loud and why should there be beeping in his room? His alarm didn't beep, it had a set of lungs and blazing brown eyes and screamed at the top of those impressive lungs for him to get his lazy ass out of bed. Where was the screaming… and gods he felt _heavy _and so lethargic he didn't want to move but just go back to sleep. His eyes wouldn't open, wouldn't move… and what was that on his face… and down his throat? Muffled voices broke the silence, shuffling and then something prickling his arm before those lovely shadows drug him back into their cool, safe arms.

.

.

**4 Days Earlier **

.

.

Yoshino slammed the phone down with a huff, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and tapping her foot anxiously. It was after midnight and they weren't back yet. Why weren't they back? They should have been back hours ago, but they weren't. That wouldn't be so awful if they would just answer their damned phones… she called all three of them and nothing. All three went straight to voicemail. Yoshino collapsed into a chair, pinching the bridge of her nose and forcing herself to calm down. She was overreacting, maybe they just died. Yeah, cell phone batteries died… all three, just happened to die… at the same time and the charger they had in the car just happened to not be working. Yeah. She could believe that, she _had _to believe it, because the alternative was not an option. The alternative was that something happened.

The phone rang and Yoshino grabbed it a bit too quickly, didn't even look at the number calling before shit pressed talk and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Shikaku?" Her voice was harsh, stilted with barely contained anxiety. There was a pause on the other line, a hesitation.

"Nara Yoshino?" Her heart stopped, the voice was _not _Shikaku or Shikamaru. It was a woman's voice, suppressed and hesitant that the wrong number had been called. The tone was practiced, clipped with a professional neutrality that came with years of calling with bad news. Dark eyes fell closed.

"Yes?"

"I have some bad news, Nara-san."

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

"How bad is it?"

The doctor tapped his pen against the clipboard he was pursuing, eyes darting to and fro over the information as if checking to make sure he had everything ready that needed to be said. He seemed a bit… young to be a doctor, his gray hair could have given the impression of age but the face was young. Late twenties early thirties is the age Yoshino pegged him for.

"He had concussion and several lacerations to his arms and shoulders and his left forearm was snapped as well and the collar bone was fractured severely. Our estimation is that he struck from the left side, he was just lucky that the glass was already fracture by the impact. Damage to his face was minimal, a few shallow cuts and bruising, seems he managed to cover most of his face with his arms… we had to reset the bones in his hands, both have steel plates."

He paused, obsidian eyes glancing up to pin Yoshino with a _look _one that said he just listed to her the _minor _injuries and that she had better prepare herself because if she fainted _he _sure as hell wasn't picking her up. She nodded.

"I'm fine Doctor Yakushi." He nodded, cleared his throat and flipped a page.

"There were deep lacerations to both arms and his shoulders… the left trapezius muscle, on the left shoulder, was extensively damaged and most of the muscle was ripped from the shoulder altogether."

Yoshino blanched, hands fisted in her slacks but her eyes were fixed on the doctor in front of her.

"Four ribs were broken and punctured his lung, but other than that there was little to no internal bleeding. His pelvis was fractured, probably from slamming into the steering-wheel as he was thrown from the vehicle. The left femur was snapped, it is braced with a metal rod now, and the right leg was dislocated at the hip and there were several sprains and minor lacerations."

Kabuto dropped the papers he flipped up and pinned Yoshino with another look, she looked a bit nauseous. They always told him he needed to work on his 'people skills' but he was a _doctor _not a therapist. They hired those twisted fuckers for a reason. He was doing his job, if she couldn't handle it, well, it was hardly HIS fault. He _was_ the one to save her son's life after all, if the mangled mess that came in on the ambulance could have been called someone's son.

"Is he allowed visitors?" Yoshino was antsy, she was anxious to see her son, to make certain he was okay.

Kabuto nodded as he stood, he'd expected she'd want to see.

"He's in ICU at the moment, we still have a breathing aid attached and he is currently sedated but you can still see him." Yoshino nodded as she stood and followed the doctor to Shikamaru's room.

When they arrived, Yoshino felt her heart leap into her throat but she staved off the panic and fear and tears. There would be time for _that _later, right now she had to assure herself that he was going to be okay. It was all a little surreal, the sterile white room and the mass of bandages, cast and pale skin asleep on the bed with IV and respiration mask and a heart monitor beeping softly to one side. The chest rose and feel to some strange synchronization to the beeping of the monitor, too quiet and all too sobering. The scene cast a sense of… impending mortality upon the viewer and seemed laden with the chill of death. Yoshino shivered and approached the bed, eyes darting over Shikamaru's face, littered with small cuts and bruises. The puffy, dark rings beneath closed eyes were shiny and still held the slightest bit of red. Fingertips ghosted across Shikamaru's brow, barely touching as though Yoshino were afraid he'd shatter should she press to hard. He was warm, real, alive, breathing… not dead. Thank every god and higher being that may be looking down that he wasn't dead.

She didn't think she could bury them both.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

It was raining, a slow constant drizzle that seemed to leak from the ceiling of gunmetal clouds. Dark swirls of gray and ebony with only the barest patches of white, not even the sun wanted to shine on such a day. The air was cold, chilled and saturated with sorrow and grief. It hung like a pall around the two black coffins set atop sharp metal braces that would lower them into the ground at the end of the funeral. Both were displayed closely, both families have been close for generations and their burial plots were near. Sarutobi on the right and Nara on the left, the crowds of gathering people were friends and family of both. The Shinto monk that stood before them, reciting prayer in a carefully cast voice that cracked and broke at intervals, stood with his bald head bowed in heartfelt sorrow. He was a close friend of Asuma's from back in the war. They returned, scarred men from all they saw, haunted by phantoms of dead men and women and children. Chiriku swore off violence and took up the mantle of a monk, promoting peace and zen. It only seemed fitting that he should be the one to send off Asuma and Shikaku.

Yoshino stood at the forefront of the congregation of black-suited people, next to her was a silently weeping Kurenai. The Nara widow had one arm wrapped around the waist of the younger woman, offering what silent comfort she could. Yoshino felt her grief, it weighed her down and threatened to break her but she was a strong woman and she would not be ruled by it. She was gifted with years of Shikaku's company and she wouldn't wallow in self-pity; she still had Shikamaru after all. Kurenai, however, lost Asuma so early… he was ripped from her. They hadn't even been married yet, engaged with a wedding not far off and Kurenai was pregnant. Yoshino couldn't imagine the devastation, even though Kurenai was strong, it was a heavy blow to take and the younger woman was doing her best. Yoshino squeezed Kurenai's side, blinking back tears as she drug her eyes from the coffins.

The Yamanaka and Akimichi families came to pay their respects, both served in a brigade with Shikaku and the three were school friends even before the war. Inoichi had his head dropped, eyes closed and a solemn expression on his face. Ino stood next to him, biting her lip with downcast eyes. Her worry was with Shikamaru, who still lay in the hospital, unable to attend the funeral due to his injuries. Ino's mother was next to her, the woman was frigid and draped in emotion she felt best suited the occasion. Yoshino detested the woman and her vanity and her airs. Chōji stood behind Ino, one large hand on her shoulder and an expression of barely-contained grief twisting his round face. His father, Chōza stood on the opposite side of Inoichi with his wife who was dapping at her eyes quietly. Yoshino adored the Akimichi's they were good, big-hearted people.

"We may have lost them Kurenai, but we've still got others to fall back on."

They did, they had friends that were family by right if not by blood and they had each other. Two who understood the other's grief to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. Kurenai dapped at her deep rouge eyes, glancing at Yoshino with a small, half-smile and nodding.

"They wouldn't want us to pity them…" She stated and Yoshino offered her a reassuring nod.

Indeed, neither man would want to know their loved ones allowed themselves to fall because of their deaths.

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

The sky was bleak and gray, leaking a slow, drizzling rain just as it had for the past several days. He watched them, all the clouds, as they swam in but they were devoid of all the past comfort. He couldn't lose himself in their abstract mass that now favored a steel ceiling more than freedom. The hospital transported him from Suna when his state was deemed to no longer be critical and he was lounging in a recovery room, covered in more bandages and drugged with enough morphine to numb him of everything. Well, almost everything. It didn't stop the dull ache in his chest, the tight clench and roll of his stomach and the heavy weight of guilt threatening to shatter his shoulders.

Shikamaru blinked slowly, dull muddy yes gliding from the window to the television flickering on the wall. No sound emitted from it, it was muted. He took to laying and just watching the figures on the screen. There was plenty of noise in his head, he didn't need their voices too.

He missed the funeral. He _killed _them and missed their funeral.

The teen closed his eyes, forcing hair into his lungs in a long, slow drag of oxygen. Forcing back the black sorrow that threatened to strangle his mind every time he allowed even the vaguest thought of Asuma or 'Tousan to cross his mind. _Don't think about it. _Think about something else. About how small this white room was, the smell of antiseptic and taste of antibiotic on his tongue, the beeping of a monitor to his side, the drum of raindrops on his window. Think about the murmur of noise in the hall beyond his door, the rattle of equipment being moved and distant grumble of patients. Shikamaru sighed out the breath he was holding, eyes flickering open to return to their dead stare of the sky beyond his window.

The doctor had expressed concern for his mental state, picking up on the vague despondency Shikamaru responded to news of his status with.

'_Should have been me… not 'Tousan… not Asuma… myfaultmyfault.' _ Shaking fingers twitched with the attempt to curl into fists. Still not well enough to possess much strength, still healing from the metal plates bracing his knuckles and the delicate bones of his hands. _'Should have let 'Tousan drive… so stupid.' _

He could see them, if he closed his eyes, laughing and relaxing and joking… then all of the fire and the blood and the bold lettering of 'Jashin Transport' painted against the side of the semi. He could still smell blood and fire and gas and see Asuma's arm… and Asuma… god… Asuma… dead… gone… his fault…

There was a soft knock at the door, snapping Shikamaru from his downward spiral of thoughts. He didn't look at the door as it was opened, probably a nurse. Two sets of footsteps shuffled in, drawing a glazed stare from Shikamaru.

Ino and Chōji… They smiled sadly, eyes full of sympathy. _'Pity.' _He hated them, with a guilty twist of his gut Shikamaru hated and envied them for their luck, for still having a father to go home to… for not having _killed _their father. He offered them a half smirk as a hello and they smiled largely in return, stepping up to his side. Chōji had a bento and Ino brought flowers to add some color to the depressing room. They gave him careful hugs, as if he would break, as if he were glass and he hated them again, just a little bit… because it was easier than giving into the crippling emotions he tied up in a box and thrown bury.

"So when do you get out?" Chōji, taking a seat and opening up the bento, all the foods were finger foods. 'Kaasan must have warned him. Shikamaru offered a warmer smile as he wiggled to a position sitting up enough to eat. His left arm was out of the question, still wrapped in a cast along with his leg.

"Dunno… think I still got another month to be in here. It's troublesome." The onigiri tasted heavenly after days and days of IV fluid, antibiotic and the processed _stuff _they called food. Chōji nodded, scratching his head.

"You're missing a lot of school." Shikamaru nodded, not that he cared. School was troublesome too if they'd let him he could just test out, but his parents wanted him to 'experience' high-school. Whatever.

"I have to finish physical therapy before I'll be allowed to leave." Even after he finished the basics he'd still be coming back for a while, probably two months. Doctor Yakushi explained that the damage to his legs and left arm and hand was quite extensive and would require work with a professional for him to recover as much mobility as possible. Shikamaru was _not _looking forward to it at all.

"Naruto wants to visit and Kiba asked about you too… we thought we'd ask before we brought them." Shikamaru blinked as Ino spoke, trying to imagine the bright blur of yellow and orange and tanned skin that was Uzumaki Naruto… and Kiba. When was the last time he'd spoken with Kiba? _'Before the arrest.' _Shikamaru sighed, dropping his head back against the pillow with a shrug. Anyone was better than nothing and the more he sat here the more he thought, about things he didn't wanna think about.

"Sure… that's fine." He offered a wan smile and returned to eating what of the bento he could, listening in an almost content silence to their rambling.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

"SHIKAMARU!" Brown eyes snapped open, he might have lurched out of the bed and onto his ass had he been capable of moving that much. Sadly, the young Nara was left to flinch and tuck his ringing ear against his shoulder with a grimace as he glared up at ocean blue eyes, swirling with mischief. Naruto was like a godamn sun, lighting up the room and adding an almost painful amount of color. Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temple before relaxing back against the bed.

"When the hell you gonna get outta this place, Nara?" Kiba's husky voice called from somewhere behind the blonde still shoved far too close for comfort. Did he have no concept of personal space? Said blonde snorted and rolled his eyes as he looked back over at Kiba who was reclined a bit awkwardly against the wall. Shikamaru sighed and shrugged.

"A month or two? They don't know yet." He glanced away from the duo to Ino and Chōji who sat near the window whispering and smiling. They all seemed so happy, so unbothered. _'Tch.' _

"That sucks man, I'd be goin' crazy in this place." Naruto proclaimed, nodding as he shoved hands into the (thankfully) dark colored jeans he wore. Their only effect seemed to be to brighten the neon orange shirt he wore. Shikamaru raised a brow, he was going insane he thought, to have agreed to this.

"Yeah well, some of us enjoy being still, Naruto."

"Hey, at least you've got plenty of hot chicks to watch. I mean damn, have you _seen _some of these nurses?" Kiba made a gesture with his hands, eyes glazing as he lost himself in some perverse fantasy. Naruto burst out laughing.

"Kiba you're such a perv. He he he"

"I am not a pervert! I'm a _man._" The Inuzuka defended, puffing out his chest and seemingly oblivious to Ino's heated glare. She, like Sakura, took rather intense offense to anyone of the male species talking about females like some sex object. Not that she helped that image at all, with her flirting and revealing clothes. Shikamaru sighed again, settling down for what promised to be a headache.

"You are so a pervert! I've seen those magazines you've got in your room!" Naruto gestured vehemently. Ino's brow twitched, blue eyes blazing and Chōji attempted to distract her.

Kiba made an unintelligible sound that sounded something like a denial and an insult. Naruto snickered, hands on hips and head thrown back in victory.

"Shikamaru's not a pervert like you." Kiba looked disbelieving, turning an eye to the Nara.

"What do you think about the nurses?"

Shikamaru's brow ticked, what the fuck did that mean? Most of them were old or he was passed out from being drugged to take the time to eye-fuck them. It's kind of hard to want to flirt with someone who shoves pills down your throat and sticks needles in your arm anyway.

"I don't know. I don't talk to them."

Kiba looked flabbergasted and made several wild gestures while Naruto's grin widened and he nodded.

"See? Just you Kiba, dirty pervert."

"SHUT IT IDIOT! You're just jealous 'cuz you can't get any!"

Fuck. Shikamaru groaned and closed his eyes. Wasn't it almost time for them to come give him narcotics? It was always so easy to pass the fuck out when one was too high to focus properly. Naruto interrupted a perfectly pleasant nap anyway. The Nara sighed again.

'_Troublesome'. _

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

This was more than 'troublesome' it was fucking insane and he was certain that the asshole with the… needle? In his mouth had made a few passes at him. Wonderful. Fucking perverts work at hospitals too.

"C'mon, kid, you gotta relax! Acupuncture helps stimulate circulation and hopefully nerve endings. It's good for you." Shikamaru rolled his eyes at the brown haired man still chewing on his… needle. Whatever it was. Honey eyes narrowed on the teen as the therapist inserted another needle into Shikamaru's muscle. His entire left arm and shoulder and now his fucking leg were covered in the damned things. How was turning someone into a human pincushion supposed to _help _anything?

The man rolled his eyes at Shikamaru's petulant expression. "Yeah, real nice kid."

"Tch. I don't see how sticking me with needles you've probably chewed on is going to help" One of the man's eyes twitched and he froze mid-insertion of mentioned 'pin' to glower at his patient.

"First, it's Doctor Shiranui to you, punk… second, this is a nervous habit. I'm a licensed acupuncturist and physical therapist and I'm quite hygienic thank you… but now that you mention it maybe I _should _chew on one first." Shikamaru made a face as the therapist growled out his response, brow furrowing and eyes darting away from the other's.

"Tch. Troublesome."

Doctor Shiranui sneered in triumph, inserted the pin and continued on his merry way.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

"Are you deaf or stupid? I said do it like _this." _An irate, all too familiar voice echoed around one corner of the therapy room. Shikamaru was more than tired of listening to it, all of this was such a drag and uncomfortable and painful and all number of other things.

Pick up the blocks like _so _and move them to another location without dropping any. Yeah, stupid simple. Easy. Or it was _supposed _to be easy. Lucky for Shikamaru his hands didn't feel like closing all the way and had a tendency to spasm and drop whatever he was carrying halfway across the room. Fucking great. If that wasn't bad enough, he had to walk in a brace. His leg wasn't strong enough for him to go skipping off without something to reinforce the bone. It was a hideous metal _thing _that supported his leg from thigh to ankle. Metal rings covered with some sort of material to keep from rubbing at the skin, wrapped around his thigh twice, his calf and ankle. Rods joined them and some simple joint mechanism joined both pieces at the knee to allow him to bend it. His arm still had a cast but no longer needed the brace to support his collar bone. Thank god or this 'task' would have been near impossible.

"S'not my fault my hands won't work! Your stupid doctor is the one who put metal in them… and I've got a _cast _and this fucking thing on my leg."

Genma froze from his superior display of how to appropriately carry the blocks to glower at Shikamaru, the teen hadn't really meant for him to hear his complaint. Oh well. He scowled back, eyes half-mast and as bleak as they were the day of his father's funeral but mildly marred with irritation.

"It's thanks to that 'metal' you've got the ability to use your hands at all, kid. Now, let's just continue this tomorrow. You need to stretch some."

Shikamaru groaned from his seat on one of the most uncomfortable benches he'd ever encountered, lips tugging farther down in what was fast becoming a permanent scowl. Genma gave him a 'look' and with a sigh Shikamaru shakily managed to stand, it took a bit of arm flapping and hip wiggling to balance in the damned leg brace, not to mention all of his muscles seemed to protest action of any kind and the slightest exertion left him short of breath. Shikamaru followed the man to a table where he was assisted in sitting on it, much to his chagrin and Genma with his smirk in place began to massage the muscles of his arms and legs. It would have been relaxing, if the touches didn't make him want to run away from the pervert.

Thumbs slid and pressed between tense shoulder blades, up and down the tops of his shoulders. A shame most of the sensation couldn't even be felt on the left side. Having one's muscle ripped off and re-attached tended to do something a bit distressing to the nerve endings. Shikamaru was half dozing when fingers wrapped around his wrist and the flat of a palm was braced on the back of his left shoulder. The appendage was lifted, lifted slowly higher and higher until there was a jolt of pain and the muscles tensed and seized, earning Genma a groan of discomfort and nasty look.

"Sorry kid, sooner we start stretching the easier it'll be."

Funny, the asshole didn't sound _sorry _at all.

"Troublesome."

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

Physical therapy was a drag and fast approaching the number one slot of 'Things Shikamaru Hates', number two on that list was _Doctor _Shiranui. Three days a week for _hours _he was subjected to the slow torture of 'recuperation'. It was bullshit in his opinion. Shikamaru wanted out of this hospital and home in his comfy, safe, familiar bed and away from nurses and needles and medicine and, most importantly of all, Doctors.

"You really don't expect me to believe this is actually effective do you? I feel like some chick trying to do yoga…"

"Well Shikamaru, that is essentially what you're doing." Genma sounded excessively smug today, especially in the face of the Nara's glare.

Shikamaru made the mistake of letting Genma figure out his rather violent dislike of being compared to the troublesome female species. He wasn't sexist or anything… women just always tended to prove the point for _why _he found them troublesome. The teen snorted, lips curled into a pout as he wrapped the stretching band around the arch of his foot and slowly began to arch back away from it. He winced painfully several times, muscles protesting the work but things were improving. At least the stupid leg brace was gone now and the cast was due to be removed in a few days. He long since passed the stupid block exercise and had moved on to more complex dexterity tests.

Sadly to say his hands weren't nearly as nimble as they once were and Genma hated Shōgi with a passion. Bastard.

"Okay that's good now switch to the other one and do ten reps. Remember, go slow, don't rush and don't try and sneak your way out of doing them all. I'll be right back." Genma departed with a sharp look, silently telling Shikamaru he had eyes everywhere and if the teen even _thought _about cheating, he would know.

"Tch." One rep down, fuck this was going to take forever.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

He was free, finally fucking free. 'Kaasan was finishing the paperwork and all of his 'things' were packed. It mostly consisted of clothing and a stuffed deer Ino brought him with more flowers and a card. It wasn't really his thing but if he got rid of it she'd put him back in the hospital.

Shikamaru was giddy, finally he was going to be leaving this place. He was already out in the car, hiding from the biting cold of winter in the warmth of a passenger's seat. His mother was walking out now, brow furrowed and lips pressed into a line. She looked as though she'd aged since 'Tousan's death, lines deepened at the edges of her lips and the corners of her eyes and he thought he could see a few gray hairs slipping free. Shikamaru flinched and looked away as Yoshino slipped into the car and handed him the paperwork.

"We've set up appointments with a Psychiatrist. You'll be meeting him once a week for the first two months. Doctor Yakushi feels it would be in your best interest, he seemed concerned about you… psychologically."

Yoshino gave him a 'look' and damn was he tired of receiving them. He wasn't going to fucking break. Shikamaru scowled, avoided her eyes and gazed out the window at the large expanse of gray-blue sky.

"I don't need a shrink 'Kaasan… I'm not going to leap off a building or whatever. I'm fine." Monotone drawl, perfected and flat, revealing nothing.

"Still, you need to see him for at least a while. If he says you're okay then we can stop the visits."

"What's his name?"

"Orochimaru."

Shikamaru snorted, arms crossing in front of his stomach, he still didn't look at her as they pulled away from the hospital to head home. _'Home… seems like it's been forever… ' _ It felt wrong to be going back without his father, to be living in a house that smelt of him and was filled with memories of him. Shikamaru closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, head tapping against the back of the seat. He didn't see Yoshino's look, the softness in her eyes and the worry that etched age into her face where before there was fire.

He didn't want to see the changes, so he didn't look, because he could handle his own guilt and scars. He deserved them… but Shikamaru couldn't bear to look at the damage he caused her.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Little longer than expected ehah. Review?

**Music: **Nujabes - Mystline ; Nujabes - Imaginary Folklore ; Maya Sakamoto - Garden of Everything ; The Pillows - Sunday ; The Pillows - Subhuman ; Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek


	3. Weight of Words

**Description: **Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes they are only the gateway to even worse scenarios. Inspired by 'Disturbia'… somewhat.

**Extra Info: **All information pertaining to illegal substances was researched; I do not condone the use of any of these substances. They were selected and mentioned due to the psychological disposition of Shikamaru due to the events of chapter 1, and these particular substances effects on their abusers.

**Pairings: **Brief implied 'encounter' between Itachi and Shikamaru.

**Rating: **M/R for drug references, explicit material and adult themes.

**Warnings: **Skewering of Psychiatric counseling methods, because it IS Orochimaru; dark themes, drug references, assault and general non-happiness. Also… erm, this is kinda dark from a 'twisted-characterization' type of perspective. Be warned.

Not beta'd – Edited for errors

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

**Weight of Words**

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Are you and your mother still fighting?"

"We don't fight… she just nags all the time."

"Hmm… maybe she just wants you to talk to her?"

"Yeah right that woman only ever wants to hear _herself _talk. She's troublesome."

"How about school? I heard you passed the boards so they allowed you to graduate."

"Yeah."

The sound of a pen scratching against paper filled the silence, Shikamaru felt no reason to elaborate and Orochimaru sighed. These visits were tedious and the games he tried in the beginning back-fired with near disastrous results. His approach was now more direct.

Orochimaru was a fucked up individual, Shikamaru supposed he had to be to be a Psychiatrist. Still, the man was more than a little creepy and had a disturbing obsession with the serpent specie. He himself vaguely resembled a snake, with honey colored eyes and odd shaped pupils. Wasn't that some sort of genetic disorder? He couldn't remember, slit pupils… or at least the _look _of slits. It had been a bit unnerving on his first visit… not so much anymore. Shikamaru learned how to… guard against the man and anyone else who tried to fuck with his head. He didn't appreciate mental games, they didn't work and he felt… violated whenever people tried.

Still, he went obediently to the meetings, collapsed into an overstuffed leather chair designed to encourage relax and drop the guard. Today was no different and Shikamaru sighed in resignation as he sank into the confines of the chair, one leg thrown over the arm opposite of the one supporting his elbow. Orochimaru made no comment but he _smiled _too pleasantly and returned to his writing.

"What about college? Have you looked at any or do you plan to go at all?"

Muddy brown slid from the window they'd been fixed on since Shikamaru had collapsed into the chair. They locked with a pair of imploring honey eyes. Orochimaru was mildly unnerved by the look he was receiving, the same all the time no matter what he asked about. In five months they made no progress, he was beginning to wonder if things hadn't digressed. The man arched a slender brow at Shikamaru.

"I don't know. 'Kaasan wants me to go to college…"

Those brown eyes flickered away again, half-lidded in sleepy disinterest.

"What do you want?"

Silence. The Nara supported his chin with one hand, the leg tossed over the arm of the chair bouncing in time to the ticks of a clock on the wall. Shikamaru blinked slowly and sighed thoughtfully.

"I want everyone to leave me alone."

Orochimaru paused in his writing, brows furrowed in confusion as he frowned up at the teen in his office. Shikamaru was possibly his most difficult patient but by far the most interesting. Usually, the more time patient's spent with a Psychiatrist the more they 'opened' up. The reverse was true for the young Nara. He came in uncertain and attempting to repress a flurry of emotions and responses. Most of them were expressions of derision and mumbled 'troublesome'. Now, Orochimaru could find nothing when he scrutinized those eyes. The teen's expressions shifted and changed with the situation and he was incredibly adept at fabricating half-truths that twisted the reality or completely dodging a question. Orochimaru did his research, the Nara was a supposed genius, apparently his godfather managed to slip him an IQ test in disguise. The Psychiatrist was almost frustrated with the kid's intellect, would have been if having such an… intriguing patient wasn't so delicious.

"Why do you want everyone to 'leave you alone'?"

Shikamaru scowled, eyes flickering to study Orochimaru from the corner of his eye. He hummed thoughtfully and then shrugged.

"They're troublesome."

"Why?"

A slow blink, eyes framed by dark shadows flickered back to the Psychiatrist in a thoughtful silence.

"Because I don't need their pity."

Orochimaru arched a brow, his writing forgotten as he carefully maintained contact with those eyes.

"Why do you think it's pity? They could just be concerned for your well-being… you look like you haven't been sleeping, Shikamaru… do you have nightmares?" Careful neutrality was the tone he took.

Something rippled across the muddy depths, obscure and vague enough he couldn't identify it.

"Sympathy is no different from pity. The results are the same. I sleep fine."

Shrugged off, like usual when questions got a little too close. Orochimaru shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a serpentine smile, a languid curl of thin lips.

"You don't look it, Shikamaru. The black rings are telling… or is goth a new look for you?"

Definitely anger this time, an ember of emotion that sparked and fizzled as quickly as it formed. Orochimaru couldn't help but find it a bit worrisome.

"I didn't know fashion was your forte."

Orochimaru smiled again. "I've seen all kinds, you'd be surprised."

Shikamaru snorted, looking away. Closed, gone. He'd missed his chance and those doors were slammed and locked. The Psychiatrist sighed and stood.

"I suppose that's all for today. Until next time, Shikamaru."

The teen shrugged, yawned as he swayed to a stand and slipped from the office.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Two Months Later<strong>

"Good day Shikamaru, please take a seat."

The door to the Psychiatrist's office thudded quietly as a body shuffled across and plopped down into a chair.

"Well, it has been quite some time since your last visit, he he. How have you been… you look… thinner."

"I've been working out and school is troublesome."

"Troublesome, eh?"

"Professors nag more than 'Kaasan and the homework is a drag."

"Cutting into your sleep?"

"I guess."

"You are very… fidgety today… why so jumpy?"

"Tch, I told Chōji I'd meet up with him… way more fun than talkin' to you."

"I'm sure. Have you joined any clubs at college, taken up anything constructive?" The tone bellied the disbelief but the subject was dropped.

"Tch. I watch the clouds and it's a community college… don't think they go for the club stuff."

"How's your mother?"

"Working."

This was going nowhere, Orochimaru watched Shikamaru with a critical eye. The teen was thinner since their last meeting and even though it was February and the weather was far from chilled, he wore long sleeves. The shadows beneath his eyes were beginning to look a bit purple and his fingers danced and fidgeted with the hem of the black shirt. Shikamaru avoided eye contact, opting to gaze with slightly glazed eyes out the window while worrying the ring looped through the edge of one lip. Orochimaru sighed, tongue sliding across his lips as he pondered the shadow sitting in front of him.

"When does she come back?" He put pen to paper and began jotting notes, voice distracted and tactfully pitched. Shikamaru paused in thought for a half second before shrugging.

"Three days, maybe four." Back to staring out the window.

"Why do you like clouds so much?" It was a loaded question that could lead to more questions or could be as mundane as asking why a person enjoyed reading books.

"They're trouble free…" Eyes slid from the nearly cloudless sky to Orochimaru's face, something like a low-burning fire sizzling in their depths. Something unnerving that was taking root in the teen's psyche. It was a phantom of the fevered look in the eyes of addicts.

"You are troubled, Shikamaru?" The teen's face scrunched in warning, elegant brows cutting a sharp line across his brow as those eyes sharpened with scrutiny. Orochimaru raised a brow, pen tip tapping the paper.

"People are troublesome." A slow blink and the contact was broken, back to gazing at the sky.

"What about your piercing… did your mother sign for you to get it?" Yoshino didn't strike him as the sort of woman to go for such things as facial piercings, perhaps ears would be okay but not facial.

Shikamaru snorted and gave him a derisive, 'are you insane' look that was encouraging for the honesty of the emotion within it. "No. The harpy would have beat me senseless. 'Tousan signed for it… as a gift." He shrugged and looked away, eyes shuttered.

"What about your ears?"

Shikamaru glanced back, brows furrowed before comprehension dawned and he smirked though it didn't reach his eyes. "Asuma signed for those. 'Kaasan disapproves of everything I do. No way she'd go for piercings."

"She disapproves of everything… perhaps she just wants the best for you?"

Shikamaru laughed, if it could be called that. The airy, 'ha ha' sounded hollow. "Whatever."

Orochimaru sighed, "I guess that will be all for today. I'll see you next week and no skipping out this time." He gave the teen one of his looks as the boy snorted, tossed a lazy wave and slunk form the room.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>The Next Week<strong>

"Your mother seems concerned about you… and the report from a few of your Professors seems distressing as well. Is something going on? Everything you say here is confidential, Shikamaru."

The teen sneered at him, yes a sneer. That spark in his eyes was gone, the fidgeting from the week before absent. Shikamaru was strung lethargically across the chair, seeming completely at ease with the world.

"Everything's fine."

Orochimaru raised a brow, expression saying he wasn't buying buy the bullshit.

"You're hardly passing your classes, you sleep through lecture and blow off meetings with your Professors. Your mother sounded distressed when we spoke."

A raised brow and cocked head were the only reply for a long moment. What was different this time? Last time so fidgety and evasive, now relaxed and casually holding eye contact. Worrisome.

"It's too troublesome. She's never home."

Nothing, nothing in those eyes. Black and bottomless and empty as obsidian stones… weren't they brown? Orochimaru's eyes narrowed at the teen. He wasn't going for evasive, bullshit answers.

"You're doing drugs."

It wasn't a question. Shikamaru froze for a fraction of a second, something flitting across his eyes before they hardened and lips pulled into a deep scowl.

"That's presumptuous."

"Really? You look like death warmed over and you've lost weight… you fidgeted in our last meeting and avoided eye contact. Now you're lounged across my chair like a prince in his harem." Orochimaru allowed his lips to curl with his ill-humor, eyes flashing malignantly. Alarm twisted itself across Shikamaru's face, there and gone as anger flared in his eyes. He made a disconcerted noise and stood, stalking out of the office with a jerky gait without saying another word.

Orochimaru had his answer, he casually picked up his cell and dialed Yoshino. By law this meeting was confidential, but under certain circumstances it was perfectly legal for him to contact a parent with his concern… and Shikamaru's warped behavior was definitely cause for concern.

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

Shikamaru froze in his doorway, eyes flitting over the immaculate bedroom. Muddy eyes narrowed, flitting over the bed that was suspiciously well-made to the shōgi board was neatly set aside, the pieces removed from the game he'd been in the process of playing against himself. Laundered clothes sat on his bed and everything on the desk in the far corner was neatly arranged. It was a second later that panic hit and Shikamaru dropped his bag to hurry across the room. He opened and closed drawers, moved books, popped out secret cubbies and shuffled through clothing.

'_Fuck. Did she go through my room! Why… she has no reason to… unless…' _Eyes, blackened with anxiety narrowed in barely contained anger. There was no fucking way Orochimaru told her he was doing drugs. That was just… the bastard said everything was confidential. Hands balled into tight fists shook with restrained emotion, _'Calm the fuck down… breathe… just lie… work out of it.' _Shikamaru's mind was already zooming through a stream of lies to feed his mother.

"Looking for something, Shikamaru?"

'_Fuck.' _

The teen turned, half-mast eyes locking on the figure of Yoshino propped against his doorframe. Her body bespoke a calm but those eyes burned with too many emotions to name and all seemed to be wrapped tightly within her anger. She had more gray hair now, more wrinkles and shadows under her eyes from working so much. Shikamaru looked away, eyes fixed on the floor, lips pressed in a tight line that relaxed after a moment.

"You cleaned my room." A statement beckoning an answer to a question unasked.

"I thought it needed it and you're too lazy to do it yourself."

"Tch. Troublesome."

"Are you doing drugs Shikamaru?" He snapped his gaze to his mother, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a scowl. The bastard had told her. Fucking troublesome Psychiatrist. There was no way he was going back. 'Kaasan could bitch all she wanted, he wasn't going.

"Why do you say that?"

"Orochimaru seemed concerned."

Shikamaru made an indiscernible noise, gesturing to his room. "Did you find anything suspicious?"

She stared at him, unblinking for a moment and he met the blazing, mildly hopeful look with his own blank expression of mild irritation. "No." Shikamaru shrugged and raised a brow as if that should be answer enough. Yoshino shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "Dinner will be ready soon." She turned and left his doorway. When her footsteps faded downstairs Shikamaru lunged for his bed, fingers clawing at the edges of a floor board and tugging out the small box, everything still inside. He was nearly panting in relief.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>2 Days Later<strong>

The house was quiet, it was always quiet. Maybe 'Kaasan left for another business trip. Even when she was home the place oozed emptiness. Shikamaru shivered as he crept through the kitchen for a drink, hairs raised on the back of his neck. Something heavy and poignant made the atmosphere almost suffocating. He opened the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water and closed it only to nearly jump out of his skin at his mother's proximity.

"Shit… 'Kaasan… what's wrong?"

Yoshino was propped against the island in the middle of their kitchen, eyes red and puffed but otherwise shut off. It was as though she'd built a steel wall between them. Shikamaru shifted, breaking the eye contact as the silence ensued. What now?

"What the _fuck _is _wrong _with you, Shikamaru?" Her voice was frigid, like ice laced with incomprehension and the barely-there tremor of disbelief. The young Nara's eyes locked back onto his mother's face in confusion.

She slammed a little box onto the island, its contents clattering with the force of the action. Shikamaru's heart stuttered, throat closed. It was like being punched in the gut with nausea and his gaze was locked on the little box.

'_How? Did she see me? When…' _

Two closed off sets of eyes met, Yoshino's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Opium, Shikamaru? What the _fuck is wrong with you?_ Doing drugs in _my _house, hiding them here… have you lost your mind? Do you know what would happen if a cop found this on you? Do you? What about if you had a job interview? What would you do about the drug test? How are you _paying _for this shit?"

The questions spewed forth, enunciated with a slam of the black box. There was no denying it, Yoshino wasn't stupid. If it had just been the delicate glass pipe he could have played it off as marijuana; plenty of teens smoked that and it was mild compared to the opiate. Weed wouldn't kill you because your brain was too relaxed to remember to breathe… it wouldn't cause collapsed veins, abscesses, spontaneous abortion, endocarditis or inflammation of the heart lining and valves because it couldn't be broken down into heroine and injected via the veins. He'd been stupid enough to leave some of the opium in the box.

Shikamaru didn't answer, he looked away, eyes pinched and body rigid. The bottle of water crunched in the white-knuckled grip he held it in. What the fuck was he supposed to say? That he was holding the shit for a friend? No.

"I didn't think you would find it."

Yoshino's eyes widened, disbelief and something that might have been horror or might have been disgust warped his mother's face into that of a stranger. Shikamaru might have felt his heart pinch and pang had he been thoroughly sober.

"What the fuck happened to you, Shikamaru? Why would you even try this shit? Did you not think how it would affect me? What it could do to you? What your father or Asuma would say if they could see you? You're a goddamn _zombie…" _She trailed off, tears threatening to break out in her eyes.

Shikamaru's shoulders snapped back, spine a rigid line and eyes narrowed and blazing with a chaotic coagulation of emotion. His jaw twitched, teeth clenched as he worked to stave off the rush of… everything that flooded into his body. He tried to ignore her threatening tears because 'Kaasan didn't cry and Shikamaru had no defenses for them. Her anger he could weather, the insults were just words attempting to main… but _tears_ were debilitating.

"It was an accident… a party. I tried some… I got more. Stop being troublesome… they're _dead _they can't think or feel or fucking _care _because they're _dead._"

She slapped him, a resounding crack that seemed to echo out and back in the quiet of the kitchen. Silent tears slipped down Yoshino's cheeks, there were no sobs or sniffles or quaking shoulders. They were silent, hateful tears of a mother pushed to the last limit of patience and compassion.

"What the fuck happened to my son?" It was a whisper but Shikamru heard it and it hurt, in a place that was supposed to be numbed by the opium, by the morphine and other components the drug broke down into. He didn't have an answer, he still stood in frozen shock, face turned from the force of her slap, eyes clenched shut.

The silence stretched until she left the room. The box went with her and with it Shikamaru's hope for an escape into delirium.

Shikamaru wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring at the floor, reeling from the world-shattering events. Everything was gone, fucked. Screwed to hell and back and there was no way of working around it. No amount of cunning or well-placed lies were going to get him out of the hypothetical shit-hole he'd gotten himself into.

'_At least she didn't ask where I got it… and didn't try to blame my friends.' _

He vaguely wandered to his room, dropped his back laden with college books and collapsed face down onto his bed. Fuck. He was already beginning to worry. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't remember the last time he'd been sober… no, scratch that, he could. The day he'd driven head on into a semi and killed his father and godfather.

'_God… I'm so sorry…' _

The guilt never went away and never lessened, it was only gone when he was high… but then pretty much _all _his thoughts were gone at that point. Shikamaru rolled onto his back, staring listlessly at the ceiling of his room.

He didn't remember when he fell asleep, but when he woke, Yoshino was gone… she didn't even leave a note telling him where she'd gone to or why.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>NEXT WEEK<strong>

"Good day, Shikamaru…"

"You said everything in this room was confidential."

Orochimaru's words died on his tongue, eyes flicking up to the teen standing rigid in the middle of his office. A perplexed expression crossed his face as he studied the anxious teen in front of him. So subtle, the slight shake in his hands and that fevered light was back in his eyes… but stronger this time. Thin lips drew themselves into a flat, deadpan line.

"I'm afraid I do not understand, Shikamaru."

It was like oil had been tossed on a fire, rage blazed to life in the Nara's black eyes, poignant enough to send a thrill through Orochimaru. _'A response… how delicious… hehe.' _

"Calling my mother and telling her I'm doing drugs." Was the hissed reply. Orochimaru sat back, ironing his features against the grin that threatened to ruin his composure.

"Obviously my assumptions were correct. If I feel that information shared here could be potentially detrimental to your health I have the right to inform your guardian of it. Seeing as you are still a student living at home, Yoshino is still legally your guardian regardless of your being eighteen."

As fast as it had exploded the anger vanished and the cold, fevered look left in its wake was unnerving. It was like watching someone slam a door in his face and it utterly enthralled the Psychiatrist. He lived for a challenge after all and Nara Shikamaru was proving to be a delicious challenge in more ways than one. The doctor did lick his lips this time and watched the flinch that caused the teen in front of him to draw back.

"You should be careful with your assumptions. My mind isn't a puzzle for your greedy fingers."

With that the teen pivoted on his foot and left the room. He might have stormed off, had he not been Shikamaru and far too lazy for such an obvious display of emotion and ill-temper. His rage was much more subtle, told in the tick of his jaw, the ice in his eyes and the white-knuckle fists.

Orochimaru was stunned and only mildly surprised. The man chuckled, running a hand through long black hair with an almost predatory grin on his lips. He definitely must work his way into the kid's head, he wanted to know what sort of spiral of thoughts led to the creation of such a persona.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>LATER THAT DAY<strong>

Unfathomable black eyes blinked slowly as Shikamaru slid into the passenger seat of the black vehicle. It was low key but still nice, the type of car that hinted at a well-off income without being too flamboyant and drawing unwanted attention. It was the perfect car for a drug trafficker.

"Back already? Is what you bought last time already gone… that was rather quick."

Not that he was complaining, the more the customer returned the more money he made but he was also a man comfortable with what he made without being greedy. Well, not too greedy. The money was lovely but if visits were too frequent it raised suspicions… or more suspicions at any rate.

Shikamaru avoided his gaze, he seemed anxious and troubled. The deep furrow in his brow and worrying of his piercing with his teeth were always tell-tale signs.

"It's gone… yeah."

A pause, the silence only broken by the rustle of containers and scales.

"How much do you need?"

"I don't have any money…"

Another pause the silence heavy with tension as those black eyes narrowed, seeming to glint with unspoken warning. Shikamaru still avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on the blinking of the digital clock in the vehicle's console.

"You… don't have any money… why are you here?"

The teen fidgeted, fingers jerking at the edge of the long-sleeved shirt he wore, slowly muddy brown locked on black.

"I… can pay you back later…"

The look was flat, face void of emotional response to that statement that sounded just slightly like a question. The raven haired man looked away, a soft sigh darting past his lips. He ran a hair through the long, dark tresses as he thought, the fingers of his free hand drumming the steering wheel.

"Sorry but I can't do fronts… maybe if it was something else." He shrugged, unapologetic regardless of the verbal apology. It was just in his nature to be polite unless provoked. There was a soft sigh from the passenger seat, he glanced over to watch Shikamaru pinch the bridge of his nose and nod in understanding. He wanted a fix but he wasn't some raving addict that would stoop to humiliating levels and begging to get it. He'd asked a question, gotten an answer and was opening the door to exit the car.

"You remember where I live?"

The question made the teen pause, glance at him in confusion before nodding with mild hesitation.

"A… get-together of sorts is behind held there on Friday. You're welcome to come if you want."

The confusion in the teen's eyes only lasted a second before he nodded, gave a thanks and stepped out and closed the car door. He'd understood the implication. A party at a drug dealer's 'house' (if it could be called that) usually entailed the use of substances.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday<strong>

It was almost the end of the term, he should have been home working on his Psych paper. The final was a presentation, leave it to the bastard to assign something so troublesome. The paper could wait, this was one night and unless Shikamaru could put an end to the agitation he knew little would be accomplished on the paper. The young Nara sighed, zipping the light jacket he wore and shoved hands deeper into his pockets as he approached a decently sized house with several vehicles parked on the side of the street and in a long driveway. It was nothing too spectacular and was in an average neighborhood. Just enough to be _nice _without standing out or drawing too much attention.

Muddy eyes darted to the front of the house as a figure stepped out, black eyes seemed to almost flash red in the dull yellow light of a street lamp. It sent a shiver down Shikamaru's spine, no matter how much time he'd spent around Uchiha Itachi, his eyes were rather difficult to accustom one's self to. The Nara smirked at the empty smile Itachi offered, a quirk of the lips, pleasant but the emotion never touched his eyes. _Nothing _ever touched the man's eyes.

A brief greeting and brief brush of lips preceded their stepping inside the Uchiha's abode.

Inside they removed shoes and padded to a lounge where nine people were sprawled in various stages of preoccupation. They all exuded the same aura of lethal potential as Itachi, though in various degrees of subtlety. A large man with skin that had been completely covered in blue ink with various details lined out to give him to appearance of an anthromorphic shark. Shikamaru raised a brow at his appearance, not very subtle at all with his flashing black eyes, filed teeth and dyed blue hair.

"Whose this Itachi?"

His voice was a liquid purr, dangerous and volatile. It's effect was diminished only slightly by Itachi's non expression as he blinked at the large man whose voice had drawn the attention of several others in the room. There was a loud blonde arguing with a somber red head in one corner near a bar. Near them was a thin man who had black ink coating one half of his body and one eye seemed blinded, or perhaps it was a white contact? The other was a sickly pale brown, perhaps it could have been hazel. An older man with deep tan skin, brown hair and greedy green eyes relaxed with a beer on the sofa. Next to him was a pale-haired man whose eyes danced with fanaticism. He'd fallen silent at 'Shark-man's' question and was now eyeing Shikamaru as though he were some sort of sacrificial lamb. The teen shifted uncomfortably and darted his eyes to a woman with… purple… or was it blue hair? She smiled at him before returning to the paper she was folding. Next to her was a rather imposing man with far too many piercings. Shikamaru actually recognized him, although he was slightly shocked. Pain worked at a tattoo and body art salon he'd visited. He thought he could remember seeing the woman there as well, maybe the receptionist or something? The last 'guest' was a man with black hair and deep, burgundy eyes. He was nondescript except that he seemed extremely talented at setting the blonde on a spree of cursing and threats.

"He is my guest, Kisame."

So Shark-man was Kisame… Itachi proceeded to introduce the rest of the dynamic group. Deidara and Sasori were… 'artists' of a sort. Kisame was Itach's 'partner' he handled customers who overstepped their bounds and other violent situations. Kakuzu was an extortionist and Hidan had a blood fetish. Konan and Pain worked at the salon and Tobi was… Tobi. Zetsu worked with Tobi on occasion but no-one really mentioned exactly _what _that work was.

Altogether, Shikamaru realized, that this rag-tag group made up Akatsuki. While their 'professions' differed all of them seemed to work as one big drug cartel.

'_Well fuck…'_

He really, really _really _hadn't meant to crash the congregating of the most notorious gang in Konoha… and probably the nearest five cities. Fuck. They were wanted but information on them was practically non-existent. All anyone knew was that members sported tattoos of red clouds across their shoulders and that they existed on by their own standards. Great.

Introductions aside, Shikamaru and Itachi drifted to a separate room. Shikamaru didn't ask questions, not when an assortment of 'utensils' were taken out and set beside a small black ball and a set of needles. Muddy eyes met black, Shikamaru's lips curled at the edges. Not exactly what he'd had in mind but whatever, it wasn't as though he'd never gone this road before. The purple indention in the bend of his left arm was testament to that. He dropped into a seat next to Itachi as the man prepped, filled the syringe and grabbed Shikamaru's wrist with his free hand. Shirt sleeves were shoved up and out of the way before the needle bit skin and lips and tongue crashed together as the brown liquid was slammed out of the syringe.

It was like being hit by a train of euphoria and weightlessness. After one had built a tolerance the nausea was nothing, the heat that scorched his veins from within almost sent brown eyes rolling in the back of his head. A low sound that might've been a moan echoed distantly in his ears, brain wafting away on waves of ecstasy. So long, a week felt like a fucking lifetime without the substance. Heroine was a substitute but it _worked _and Shikamaru barely made note of lips kissing a blazing trail down the side of his neck as he surrendered to delirium.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Monday<strong>

So much for writing that Psych paper, Shikamaru considered ditching the class altogether but maybe he could bullshit his way through a presentation well enough to at least score a 'D'. Maybe. It wasn't as though it really made much of a difference, he no longer made the effort to calculate the amount of effort it would take to score 'average' and pass. Now, he was matching the idiots stride-for-stride in 'barely passing'. He slept through class and occasionally turned in homework and would generally complete a little over half of the tests. Sometimes. Chōji asked him about it, but Shikamaru shrugged him off and the giant of a friend didn't press the issue further. The Nara knew his friend was worried though, they'd been together since diapers and Chōji always seemed to know when something was up. Now though, the Akimichi didn't know what to think or how to approach his friend because Shikamaru wasn't the Shikamaru he remembered and he hadn't been since the car accident. Well, at first he seemed okay but then things changed.

Shikamaru was rather irritated by the side-long glances Chōji kept shooting him. He was trying to fucking sleep and his head was pounding and his arm was _still _sore from Friday. Friday had been… interesting. The last thing he remembered was Itachi's lips on his skin and then he was waking up late Saturday evening, dazed from the after effects of the drug and just a bit sore. The Uchiha had offered to drive him home and didn't leave again until Sunday.

'_Good thing 'Kaasan wasn't home… that would have sucked.' _

Very much so, and now here he was, head resting on crossed arms and trying to take a nap that Chōji kept interrupting. The Nara grumbled in his throat, cast his friend a tired glare and turned his head away. The Akimichi already asked if he was okay, he'd said yes, Chōji pressed the issue and Shikamaru rolled his eyes and said he had a busy weekend.

'_Yeah… busy…' _The thought almost made him want to sneer in derision at the lie. Whatever.

Someone was giving a speech, was it Naruto? Probably. The constant pauses to giggle and snigger at whatever he was talking about was almost enough to give it away. Shikamaru allowed the steady rhythm to lull him back into his nap.

"Having a good nap Nara? Wouldn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep with my class."

The voice caused Shikamaru to flinch from his nap, eyes fluttering open blearily. Fuck but his head was hurting and heroine _really _wasn't a substitute for opium. The shit left him feeling worse than before he'd injected it. The high was phenomenal but the after effects sucked. Two days and he was already at the point of agitation, the headaches didn't help and the constant waking in the middle of the night wasn't fun either. The Nara snorted derisively and tucked his head farther into the folds of his arms, flipping the hood of the jacket over his head.

There was a presence right next to his desk now, the hard black eyes of Morino Ibiki, Professor of Psychology and head of the Psych Department were leering down at him. Shikamaru wondered how many years the excessively scarred man worked to perfect such a glower, he could practically _feel _the heated look. Slowly, with a sigh, Shikamaru raised his head and flicked brown eyes up to Professor Morino, he raised a brow at the man.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't sleep much last night."

It wasn't a complete lie. Ibiki snorted at him, eyes flicking around Shikamaru's face as though he could intimidate the teen. A shame his efforts were falling short, in comparison to eyes that bespoke no hesitation to kill and maim, Professor Morino was nothing, even if he _did _intimidate everyone else. Not that he wasn't unnerving, Shikamaru just didn't give a shit.

"Regardless of your sleep, it is your turn to present, Nara." The voice was a growl and Shikamaru sighed heavily as he swayed to a stand with some effort. Everyone in the lecture room was watching the two, Shikamaru scowled at them, dull eyes flicking to the front of the room.

'_Ugh so fucking troublesome.'_

He made to stroll to the front of the room but a cough stopped him, Shikamaru turned back to the Professor who stood with his arms crossed and an expectant, questioning look twisting his mauled face. Shikamaru's frown deepened.

"Sir?"

"The paper is due before you present. No paper no presentation. I won't be giving out points for half-assed behavior, Nara."

'_Fuck. Bastard.' _

Brown eyes narrowed for a moment before evening out to their half-mast and Shikamaru shrugged, looking away.

"I don't have a paper."

Silence. Stretching, suspenseful silence. Chōji was watching them both, eyes dancing between his friend and Professor with some concern. Naruto and Kiba were huddled together and sniggering. Probably making bets on the outcome. _'Troublesome'. _

"No paper? How do you plan to make a presentation without a paper, Nara?"

Another shrug, the disinterest and lack of response was getting to Ibiki. He ground his teeth for patience. He was a man of the mind. Teaching was his 'retirement' job, one he took up for fun. He wouldn't be outdone by some kid who thought he was too good to do the work assigned.

"You can't give me an answer, Nara? Why'd you even come to class?"

Shikamaru sighed, why couldn't he just drop it?

"I was busy. So, no, _Sir, _I didn't do the paper. I came to class to make a presentation." The kid looked at him, eyes closed from whatever he might be feeling but Ibiki was no fool. He watched agitation flit across the muddy surface of those eyes and the muscle twitching in the Nara's jaw. Ibiki smirked long and self-assured. He didn't miss the tone 'Sir' was uttered in. Progress.

"How are you going to 'make a presentation' on a topic you didn't research?"

No response, just a vague stare that seemed to ask if he was being serious. Shikamaru sighed, one hand shoved deep into his pocket, fingers dancing around the lighter stashed there. God his head fucking hurt. "It's not hard. Just basic psychology, _Sir."_

"You seem quite confident for a student who's failing."

Shikamaru shrugged. "Passing is too much trouble."

Ibiki's brow twitched. What the fuck did that mean? He knew the kid slept through most of his classes, hardly returned homework and only put form the bare minimum of effort to complete a test before falling asleep in the middle of them. Black eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Then why are you here? You're wasting my time and everyone else's time, Nara."

Another flicker of something obscure ran through Shikamaru's eyes, the psychologist in Ibiki wanted desperately to know what it was but the teacher didn't give a fuck only that this punk was making a scene.

"You're the one making a big deal about it. Why not just send me out of the room?"

To say Ibiki was shocked would have been an understatement, the whispers rippling around the room stopped suddenly. Chōji was fidgeting, looking as though he would jump up and try to mediate the situation. Shikamaru wasn't confrontational, everyone knew he was too lazy to waste his time, so it was completely shocking to watch him say something like that to Ibiki. Especially to Ibiki, who half the student body feared for no other reason than the scars on his face.

The Professor blinked slowly before shock turned to malicious intent and he leaned forward, invading Shikamaru's personal 'bubble' with the proximity of his glowering head.

"I really don't know who you think you are, Nara, but I will not be made a fool of by a worthless piece of shit trying to make a statement. Really, I would think Shikaku would have raised his son better."

Wrong. Wrong. Bad and wrong and if only Ibiki could have known the hell storm of emotion rushing through the Nara moments before those words were uttered, perhaps he would have withheld the statement. A sudden, incomprehensible rage exploded to life in his eyes at the same moment that Chōji leapt from his chair, large hands grabbing for his friend.  
>"Shikamaru no!"<p>

Shikamaru didn't hear, the class was a frenzy and it was as though time had frozen, everything painted in that awful red that haunted his dreams and made his stomach clench in nausea. Red, everywhere, red and at the center the sneering Ibiki and his smug superiority.

Steel plated knuckles crashed against Professor Morino's shocked face moments before Chōji was able to grab Shikamaru's arm. The resounding slap, crack of skin colliding and press of steel against bone that sent blood exploding from Ibiki's mouth had the room tumbling into frozen silence. The man went down like a load of bricks with a dull thud and red still oozing from between his lips.

Chōji grabbed Shikamaru, arm wrapped around his torso and the other grappling with his arms as the big man hauled his friend away from their fallen Professor. The Akimichi's face was ashen and eyes still wide with incomprehension and worry as he drug his belligerent friend away.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN…"

They must've been loud enough to alert another professor, in the doorway stood a very irate Umino Iruka who began his statement in a shout that fell to shocked silence as students parted for him to view the unconscious Ibiki. Those wide, hazel eyes skipped next to Chōji restraining Shikamaru who was, by this point, calm and staring at the floor with glazed eyes.

**.**

**.**

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Dark chapter, lots of illegal substance abuse blah-blah and I do love Ibiki but I thought it would be fun for him to be knocked out… it took a lot of debating to decide on the subject and who would be the Professor but yeah.

Yes, there was implied homosexual content. Deal with it. And NO Shikamaru and Itachi are not a couple much less the couple of this fiction. I don't even know if there WILL be one… kinda depends on how shit goes. They have physical relationship…. Kind of a 'friends with benefits' type of thing but more like a 'my drug dealer with benefits'. Yeah. I purposefully left their relationship and how it came about vague.

Erm… see any major mistakes let me know.

I love Orochimaru and I'm a bit bored and exhausted of seeing him written as the major villain. So he isn't. He's the Psychiatrist and I'm not sure if he's going to reappear or not, yet.

**Music: **Warning for content of music.

Dark Lotus – In Bloom

Dark Lotus – Heinous

Disturbed – Animal

Graveworm – Fear of the Dark

MGMT – Time to Pretend

Sublime – Caress Me Down

The Agonist – Business Suits and Combat Boots


	4. Suspect

**Description: **Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes they are only the gateway to even worse scenarios. Inspired, loosely by 'Disturbia'.

**Warnings: **There will be mild references to homosexual encounters and potentially large age gaps. Material is questionable with reference to abuse of opiates, psychological trauma, self-destructive behavior and drug dealing. There are oodles of sexual frustration as well. Enjoy.

**Rating: **M/R for drug references, explicit material and adult themes.

No Beta

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

**Suspect**

The office was small, covered with framed awards and certifications, file cabinets, thumbnail boards with news clippings and photographs and occupied by a desk and three chairs. The desk was covered with files and papers and documents as well as a computer, but still managed to retain some form of organization. Everything was set aside in stacks and piles sorted by topic and purpose. The only items now out of place were photographs strewn across the top, covering the space between one Ten-Ten and her partner Hyūga Neji. The brunette Investigator looked up from the photos with a thoughtful expression, fingers tapping the wooden surface rhythmically.

"So you finally caught photos of him… you sure you can find this kid though? And at the scene with something incriminating?" Chocolate eyes locked with pale lavender and Neji sighed, raking a hand through his long hair.

"I… might have an idea who the kid is. I picked him up for vandalism and breaking and entering a while back. He didn't seem like the drug type though…"

Ten-Ten frowned, cradling chin in palm as she sorted through the photos again. Most of them were of a college aged brunette with an absurd ponytail getting into or exiting a car. It wasn't an overly eye-catching vehicle, black with lightly tinted windows. The type of car that would catch the eye in its cleanliness but completely slip through the memory in how _normal_ it was. Average, unlike its driver and a man the bureau had been chasing for years, Uchiha Itachi.

"Hmm… maybe it's a recent development. You remember his name? Maybe we could scare him into dropping information about Itachi." Neji smirked at her, crossing his arms and reclining back in the chair to think a moment. The man's memory was ridiculous in Ten-Ten's opinion, he seemed capable of recalling the smallest of facts, spur of the moment.

"Nara something…." Neji craned his head, he'd only glimpsed the kid's ID before hauling him to a car and to the station. He hadn't handled his booking, however, and there was no conversation between them on the ride to the station.

A commotion outside one of the office windows and both occupants glanced at the chatter of officers bringing in another delinquent to book. The Hyūga blinked incredulously at the thin excuse of a young man the two officers drug between them, each with a firm hand clasped around his upper arms. They were laughing as they discussed what he was being brought in for and Neji found himself rising briskly as the oddly stoic teen was led to one of the cells.

Ten-Ten blinked before following her partner outside the office with an inquiring look, "That was him." Neji sounded almost amused at the irony of the situation and Ten-Ten smirked.

"Well, that just makes our job easier, yeah?" Neji nodded to her as they approached one of the officers returning from the back with a plastic box filled with Shikamaru's possessions. Neji scanned them briskly before gesturing the officer over to him.

"What's he in for?" Officer Hagane, Kotetsu cast Neji a look before sniggering and shrugging.

"Nailed his college Professor. Hope the kid's got a good lawyer…"

Neji blinked almost surprised, he'd punched a Professor? Kotetsu was continuing as he handed over the plastic box to another to be searched and documented.

"Hell, I'm shocked, he don't look like much but apparently he's got quite a punch. The man he hit was at least twice his size and was out cold when we got there. Some of his buddies had calmed him down so he didn't give us any trouble… " Hagane shook his head, "Kids these days."

Officer Kamizuki, Izumo returned from the back with a slight frown. "We searched him but he's clean… kinda skinny and has weird bruises on his arms." Kotetsu blinked at him, face mirror his partner's. Neji and Ten-Ten shared a look.

"I'd like to question him, it relates to a current investigation." The two officers nodded before continuing on their business. Ten-Ten turned to go report to Hatake Kakashi, the third man on this case and the overseer of it.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

"Hello Shikamaru."

The crisp, clipped, far-too-appropriate voice broke through the sulking man's thoughts and Shikamaru blinked sleepily up at Neji as he approached with a file tucked under one arm. Who the hell was this guy? Oh… yeah, that's right, the asshole that arrested him before. The young Nara sighed, slouching further in his seat on a bench outside of the holding cells as he waited for someone to come document his information and send him into one of the noisy rooms. Neji seemed to take the look and gesture as a sign of acknowledgement and took a seat near him on the bench, flipping open the file. Shikamaru noted from the corner of his eye that it held photos as the Hyūga plucked one up and held it up to him.

"Do you know this man?"

Shikamaru snorted, looking away with a noncommittal shrug. He had bags under his eyes and a glaze look darkening the brown of his iris to a muddy color. "Maybe."

Neji smirked, returned the photo of Itachi and held up another photo. This one was of Shikamaru entering his car. "Maybe? Are you sure you don't know him quite well…"

The tone bordered on a warning and the Nara raised a brow at the investigator, giving the photo a cursory glance before looking away again. God we fucking wanted a cigarette and some peace, not this up-tight asshole questioning him about Itachi.

"What of it?"

Neji wouldn't let the kid's words get to him, he returned the photo and leaned back, eyes searching the young man next to him. He looked exhausted and vaguely annoyed at being bothered. Not quite the reaction he'd been expecting but the vague answers were enough clarification.

"He's a wanted man… not someone a college student really needs to associate themselves with."

Shikamaru smirked, hooded eyes flicking to Neji's for a brief second before returning to a spot on the wall opposite them.

"Troublesome… I met him around campus, we hang out sometimes." Another indifferent shrug.

"That so… what about the bruises on your arms?" The kid's posture stiffened and black eyes locked on Neji once again. Defensive, almost angry.

"I don't see the problem, _sir. _I'm here for punching my professor, why are you asking about Itachi?"

Neji looked like the cat who'd just caught the mouse. "Because I think you know him, I think you do a bit more than 'hang out' with this man, and your cooperation in an investigation could prove… beneficial to you." Neji hated breaking deals with delinquents but if it got him information on Itachi, then it would be worth it. After all, an assault charge could prove quite hurtful to one's record.

Shikamaru sneered at him, something like contempt floating in his eyes that Neji was a bit appalled to see. "My cooperation in your investigation… heh, troublesome. Morino-sensei is likely to sue, I doubt you could cut corners on a personal lawsuit."

Neji blinked slowly, flipping the file closed with a thoughtful expression. "If you are caught and suspected of aiding this man, Itachi, then you could be charged by association and impeding an investigation."

Shikamaru shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about. He's an acquaintance, a loose friend. I would have to be at the sight of whatever he's wanted for, and involved to be charged."

Neji was impressed with the kid's avoidance tactics, not that he'd admit to it. "Very well. Perhaps some time to consider the issue."

"Whatever." Shikamaru wasn't stupid, he wasn't about to let this asshole know he was tempted to take up his offer. He wasn't an idiot either, admitting to involvement with Itachi could fuck him over worse than just dropping off the charts. Public places weren't the only methods he had of meeting the man.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

The car was silent, almost unnervingly so. Neither occupant spoke as Shikamaru slouched farther down in his seat with a sigh, muted brown frozen on the scenery flipping past. The sun had already fallen, it was late but the hint of burnt orange and purple on the horizon alerted the sun had no completely diminished it's reign.

"You didn't have to come get me, ya'know."

There was silence from the driver's seat before a sigh echoed Shikamaru's own and the ruby-eyed woman smiled almost sadly, gaze never leaving the taillights of the car in front of her.

"I know, but I wanted to…" Her voice was soft, not judging him and not asking any questions other than the slight tone of concern that seemed to weight her every word of late. Shikamaru felt like shit.

"I'll pay you back."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Don't worry about that Shikamaru, I'll just hold it as a favor when my lawn needs cutting in the spring."

He offered her a forced smile, eyes never turning to face her and studying the night sky with half disinterest.

"Sorry I messed up dinner."

She waved him off with a flippant gesture. "Don't worry about it, things happen… what did happen, Shikamaru?" There was the worry, more than concern as her brows knit together above otherwise calm eyes.

"I punched my professor… it was stupid but I…" _Lost control… _Like an idiot, he never lost control he never got so… pissed off that he couldn't control himself. The Nara shifted in his seat, uncrossing his arms to fidget with a threadbare portion of his jeans. Kurenai sighed into the silence.

"I see, why? I didn't know you could get so worked up." A half smile, almost teasing. Shikamaru sunk lower, if possible, into his seat.

"He said something about my dad… and it just pissed me off. It was stupid… now I've got another court date and 'Kaasan is gonna murder me." He groaned and she did chuckle this time, shaking her head.

"It's not funny Kurenai, _you've _never been on the receiving end of one of her lectures." _Not to mention she's been practically ostracizing me since she found that shit in my room. Fucking troublesome is what it is. _

"You wouldn't be either if you'd behave." Teasing again, but with an edge of seriousness. Shikamaru made a noncommittal noise and returned to staring out the window.

"How about you come over for dinner? I know Yoshino is still out of town and you're too lazy to cook yourself."

Shikamaru smiled a barely-there smile and nodded, "Yeah, that'd be nice."

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

"YOU WHAT!" Yoshino exclaimed, as she slammed the kettle down on the oven and spun around with hellfire in her eyes. Shikamaru shrunk in his seat, eyes fixed and glaring at the dark marble surface that he traced invisible patterns upon with one finger.

"I said, I have court next week… for punching my Professor… in school…" He grumbled, shoulders hunching with the reiteration and a sighed 'troublesome' breaking through his lips.

Yoshino's enraged face was fixed unmoving on her delinquent son while hands rested at her hips. Her voice was absolute venom when she spoke.

"You… you can't just stop can you? What the hell is _wrong _with you Shikamaru? I could handle the god damned vandalism back in highschool, even if it was stupid… but you brought _drugs _into _my _house and now… now you punch your Professor? Are you trying to go to prison? Or are you just too messed up from whatever you're doing to care anymore?"

Shikamaru looked up sharply at this, eyes narrowing as fingers curled tight in rage. Something cold and hurtful clenched his stomach into a knot. Sure, he'd known she didn't believe he stopped or that he was at least doing something else… her suspicious glances and obsessive searching of his room proved that much… but to say it… like _that? _

"I'm not getting fucked up and going around and saying screw everything." He hissed, eyes returning to the surface of the bar. Yoshino snorted, chin tossed up as if scrutinizing a bug she was about to stomp. In her mind, she very well may have been about to do just that.

"Oh really? You have a funny way of showing it. To think, I thought I raised an intelligent son… or at least one that wasn't stupid enough to throw his life and potential away for fucking drugs. What else are you doing Shikamaru? Don't give me that bullshit that you aren't either!"

Shikamaru's mouth snapped shut and he didn't bother attempting to make eye contact. She'd just trudge on in her tirade anyway, why try to stop her?

"You haven't been to your counselor in_ months _and even he was suspicious that something wasn't right. You sneak around and I don't even know where you are when I'm not here… you expect me to just trust you? You punched a Professor, Shikamaru, you could very well go to jail for assault. Do you have any idea how much he could press charges for! I already work as much as I can to support your pampered little lifestyle without someone suing us, not to mention the incarceration fee and bail! I can't believe Kurenai actually got you out! How'd you manage to talk her into that?"

Well if he didn't feel like shit before he definitely did now, he didn't have his mother's faith or trust or goodwill… now she was implying he'd managed to sweet talk his way into Kurenai's good graces and use her. That knot in his stomach was burning now. "I didn't talk her into anything… I just called to let her know I couldn't make it to dinner…"

Yoshino snorted again and turned back to her cooking. "Whatever. Sometimes I wonder if you're even my son! To think that sweet little boy I raised could be so ungrateful. Go do the laundry while I finish this, dinner will be done in an hour. Kurenai is going to come over." She hissed and Shikamaru slumped off of his stool. His eyes burned, though he'd never admit it as he slunk out of the kitchen.

"I'm not really hungry, I'm just going to sleep once the laundry is done." She didn't reply to his mumbled statement and the young Nara just stalked up the stairs with a dark cloud over his mood. Fucking perfect. His mom had practically disowned him as a son, as much as a biological mother can, anyway.

Shikamaru fell back against the heavy wooden door, hooded eyes sweeping the immaculate room that had become something of a haven since his father's death.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

Court came and went, the sentence wasn't nearly as heavy as it could have been. The judge must have taken some pity on Shikamaru due to the loss of his father and godfather, assumed the _troubles _he was going through. He'd been let off with a fine and house arrest for **four months**! Now, normally he was a lazy bastard but months of being confined to one's house could drive anyone except an anti-social hermit insane. The university also barred him from returning or attending at a later date. This was, of course, at the insistence of Morino-sensei.

The man glowered at Shikamaru through the entirety of the meeting. His face was still slightly bruised from the unrestrained punch the young Nara got in on him. His ego was probably hit harder though. That man had pride from hell. He'd be damned if he was going to be shown up by one of his students without there being repercussions. So not only was Shikamaru on house arrest and expelled from fucking _college _if he wanted to go back, which by his Kaasan's pressing, he did indeed want to, he'd have to search for another university. This one probably out of town. The whole fucking situation was beyond troublesome.

Now here he sat, on the counter of Yoshino's spotless kitchen, with a lady in a stiff black suit affixing an alarm to his ankle. There was also a modem of sorts being installed that was wirelessly linked to the ankle bracelet and should he go within so many feet from his home, BEEP BEEP the fuzz would be summoned. Shikamaru watched her finish up with a sour look on his face. This meant no leaving the house; no going to cloud watch at the park with Cho, no trips to that delicious ice cream stand downtown and most importantly, no visits to Itachi's "parties". Life sucked.

The woman righted herself, she looked exhausted and irritated. Probably from all the legitimate delinquents she had to put up with. She turned to Yoshino, who if possible, looked worse for wear. Deep furrows marred her face and made the wrinkles she'd developed since Shikaku's death more prominent.

"Ready for the installment fee?" The woman's no-nonsense tone inquired. Yoshino blinked then threw a nasty glare at Shikamaru who grimaced.

"Not particularly, not that it's an option. How much are we looking at and what payment methods are possible?" She wasn't made of money after all. The two women left the room to discuss money-matters while Shikamaru was left to ponder his imprisonment.

A cough from the doorway drew chocolate eyes to pale lavender ones. What the fuck? A smirk curled Neji Hyūga's features as he watched confusion then irritation contort the Nara's features.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm your probation officer, Nara. Which means we'll be seeing a good deal of each other. I'll be making regular check-ups on you to ensure there aren't any… complications." He sounded far too damned smug, leaning against the doorframe in his pressed white shirt and black slacks with arms crossed in front of him.

"Tch… troublesome." Shikamaru rolled his eyes and hopped off the counter. This definitely wasn't part of general protocol, why would an officer make visits to the detainee's house? It probably had something to do with that investigation Hyuga interrogated him about at the station. Shikamaru felt his muscles tense, this could be problematic. No matter, he'd just give Itachi a heads up on the situation and play it off. He was quite the convincing liar when he needed to be, after all.

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Sorry for the long wait. This chapter is relatively short and took far too long to write... oh well. Here is the update finally.

Please review... any reviews ;-; it's hard to write without knowing is the method of delivery effective? The plot line? Anyone have any ideas or events they'd like to see incorporated? Characterization? Grammar errors (for I'm sure there are some... if not a lot of them x_x)

Yeah... just reviews xD so I've got something to go off of. After all I can write this in my head I don't have to see it in words to enjoy the story... this is for the readers, ne? and if the delivery is ineffective then it's pointless and I'll know I need to change something... until such information is relayed however, i will continue to write... as I write... which is probably extremely long winded. hehe


	5. Captivity

**Description: **Troublesome friends lead to troublesome events. Sometimes they are only the gateway to even worse scenarios. Based loosely on 'Disturbia'.

**Rating: **Still M…

**Warning: **References, rude behavior etc.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: <strong>

**Captivity  
><strong>

_Smoke wafted everywhere, a haze clouding and skewering the moving shadows… figures human figures. Shifting and jeering and laughing just out of reach._

_Everything was sepia, color bleeding out and warping. Vision flickering in and out, like the flashes of a strobe light._

_And black, smoldering eyes that burned and seared everywhere they looked and roiled with a dangerous glint. _

_Panting breath, moaning, sweat… a shiver down a phantom spine. _

_The jeering, the laughter. Figures huddled around an elaborate 'pipe' with white smoke wafting in the room, weighting the air with its euphoric fumes. Fumes heavy like lust and delirium, sweet unfeeling delirium. _

_And black eyes again, threatening and burning with unnamable sensations._

_Moaning, louder and grinding like the rolling of a tide…._

_And blood… so much blood everything was blood and red and burning and there was glass and laughter and the screams… and ohgod all the blood so much of it, too much and it was seeping around, filling vision, drowning and clogging his lungs and the smoke was gone because the fire eclipsed everything._

_And Asuma's eyes flashed in front of him, sad eyes as he shook his head. _

_Disappointed. _

_And he was looking up at a crimson sky strewn with black clouds from the bottom of a pit… a hole with an elaborate box around him and two figures standing at the edge. _

'_Tousan… Asuma…_

_There was still blood, so much blood, their blood and their screams and the taste of opium the feeling of euphoria burning through his veins and black eyes boring into his… and dirt raining down as they shoveled it into his grave and his screams fell to muted whispers. _

_Screaming, screaming but they wouldn't stop tossing in the dirt and the blood was boiling higher and higher and all those other shadows were laughing and…_

* * *

><p><em>.<br>_

The sharp wrapping on a door jolted Shikamaru from his sleep, eyes wide and wild and body coated in a fine sheen of sweat. The sheets clung to his body, a cool morning breeze wafted through the window and stirred the sheer curtains. '_It wasn't real… just a stupid fucking dream…' _A stupid fucking dream that had his heart racing and flashed behind closed eyelids. He better get used to them, the dreams, they were inevitable now that he was looking at a long stint of sobriety.

"Shikamaru, get your ass up! Hyūga-san is coming to discuss some things with us today and you have chores to do. I'll be damned if you sit on your lazy ass every day."

Her voice was sharp and beckoned no argument, Shikamaru lay silently until he heard Yoshino's heels click against the wood floor with her retreat. The steps were sharp and hurried, as though she were pressed for time. She probably had a flight to catch later. More business and he'd be in this house alone. With a groan the young Nara threw his legs off the side of his bed, shivering when his toes made contact with the chilled floor. Yawn and shaking the last vestiges of the dream away, he stood and traipsed to his closet. Clothes hardly mattered, not like he was trying to impress anyone. A simple black shirt and pair of worn jeans would suffice.

He stumbled to the shower and stood for a long while beneath the scalding spray of water. By the time he emerged from rinsing his skin of sweat the mirror was so fogged with steam Shikamaru was but a blur on its surface. Not like it mattered, he wasn't one to spend time in vanity. Quickly toweling dry he pulled on the clothes, brushed his teeth and cleaned his lip piercing. His hair was left down until it dried more, no point in pulling it up only to suffer through wet hair for the majority of the day.

Downstairs Yoshino bustled in the kitchen, putting away clean dishes with a frown marring her face. There was a box of donuts on the counter and a container of milk. Shikamaru grabbed one and dropped into a seat on one of the stools. He and Yoshino barely spoke anymore, only the necessary conversation to make it through the day. They'd slowly fallen adrift since Shikaku died… Yoshino was busy working and Shikamaru was busy trying to forget. He took a bite of the donut, chocolate eyes stopping the casual tracking of his mother. Might as well try to break the stifling silence.

"What time is Hyūga-san supposed to be here?" His eyes were locked onto the counter as he spoke.

Yoshino paused what she was doing and sighed heavily, massaging her closed eyes with one hand before turning to face her son. She eyed him for a moment, looking for something in his face but he wouldn't meet her eyes. What happened? Where did she go wrong? The frown never stopped and the silence stretched.

"He should be here around noon. I do expect you to be polite, as difficult as that may be."

Shikamaru flicked his gaze up to his 'Kaasan, studying her a moment. Was that meant to be sarcasm? He couldn't find any humor on her face. She was still closed to him, ever since she found the opium… now it was as though they were strangers living in one house. He shifted and turned his gaze away, took another bite of his donut and washed it down with a gulp of milk.

"Guess I can do that…" He grumbled, propping his elbow on the table to rest the side of his face against his knuckles. Yoshino rolled her eyes but didn't comment further.

The silence stretched until the doorbell rang, Yoshino slipped from the kitchen where Shikamaru still sat, gazing at the clouds through the window. The sound of a door opening and voice drew his attention to the conversation his 'Kaasan was having with Neji.

"Ah! You must be Hyūga-san? Please, come in." Her voice was light, airy with practiced politeness.

"Thank you Nara-san. Please, Neji is fine." The lavender eyed man bowed slightly before stepping into the entrance of the Nara residence. Yoshino chuckled and waved a hand lightly.

"Well then, Neji, Yoshino is fine as well." She smiled at him before gesturing them toward the kitchen.

The man was impressive! He wore an immaculate suit tailored to fit him perfectly and even though his hair was long it shone like fine silk. She wondered vaguely how much work it took to maintain such lustrous hair.

"Your home is quite nice… have you moved since your husband's death?" Yoshino paused at the question, pain pinching the edges of her eyes. Neji made a mental note of the touchy subject.

"No, this is the same house he and I bought before Shikamaru was born." Neji nodded solemnly as they continued on their way.

In the kitchen, Shikamaru rolled his eyes. It was already quite obvious 'Kaasan was impressed by the bastard. He had perfect poise, perfect manners and probably a _perfect _resume and pedigree to accompany them.

"I assume you've already met my son…" Yoshino gestured to Shikamaru's slouched figure with some amount of disdain in her voice. Neji took slight note of this as Shikamaru turned to glance at them before returning his gaze to the clouds outside. Neji felt his blue-blooded raising rankle at the lack of respect the punk showed his mother. In the Hyuga's opinion, he should be grateful he wasn't thrown out after his behavior.

"Indeed we have, Yoshino-san. He was polite enough when we met… although I'm sure the circumstances were more than a little straining." Again Shikamaru rolled his eyes, turned away from the two, neither saw the action but Neji could tell the young Nara wasn't impressed by him and was probably running some sarcastic narrative through his head. Inwardly, he smirked at this thought.

"Hah! I doubt the circumstances had little to do with it! His manners have something to be desired even with all my attempts at beating some respect into him. He's as stubborn as a bull. If only he could be more like you, I'm sure your family is quite proud. Private Investigator and you look quite young!" Yoshino was very impressed by the young man, he couldn't be older than twenty-five yet he carried himself with a regal grace.

'_Hypocrite' _Shikamaru scolded mentally. 'Kaasan was one to talk about being stubborn. The woman gave a whole new meaning to the word! Nothing was ever good enough.

"Ah, your praise is really too much Yoshino-san! The Hyūga family is quite insistent on nothing less than perfection from its children. They are quite traditional."

Yoshino smiled politely and nodded, Shikamaru wanted to gag at it all. The remainder of the meeting continued in this vain, Yoshino offering compliments and constantly comparing the 'perfect' Hyuga to her 'useless' son. Fucking figured. Shikamaru would've left but he was more interested in finding out what the bastard needing to talk to his 'Kaasan about. Eventually they came to the point, setting up a schedule for Neji's visits and Yoshino offering him a spare key to the house. After all, it was never certain if Shikamaru would get out of bed if she wasn't there to run him out. Neji thanked her and Shikamaru glowered at the bastard. That was his 'Tousan's old key, it wasn't some spare and the thought of this Hyuga having a key to his home had the young Nara's hackles rising. He didn't want the man snooping around his house!

"It has been a pleasure meeting you Yoshino-san, but I must be going. I will check up on Shikamaru twice a week and return the key to you at the end of his… detainment."

"It was a pleasure meeting you as well Neji! Hopefully I will be home during some of these visits. Such a pleasure speaking to such an astute young man. Perhaps you could join us for dinner sometime?"

Neji thanked her politely for the invite and the compliments and excused himself with a farewell to Shikamaru who merely grunted in response. Bastard wasn't fooling him, nope. He was a fucking asshole, Shikamaru _knew _it and playing goodie-two-shoes wasn't fooling him for a minute. Of course, his judgment wasn't in the slightest aided by his headache or the fact this man was trying to dig for information on Itachi. Yoshino regarded her son before checking the clock and leaving the room to grab her bags.

"I'll be gone for a week, Shikamaru. Do try to stay out of trouble! I will be giving money to Kurenai who has so helpfully agreed to purchase groceries should they be needed."

She offered a half-assed parting before hurrying from the house and to the airport to make her flight. Shikamaru watched her go with a knot in his stomach. She'd practically blown him off, a wave and quick sentence and she was gone. No annoying kiss on his forehead he would always complain about but secretly enjoy for the rarity of such affection. Nor had she offered the typical 'love you' that most parents gave children they wouldn't be seeing for some time. Mood further soured Shikamaru trudged about doing his chores.

Most of these were mundane things such as doing the laundry and the dishes. He wiped down the counters and checked the sitting room for any litter before heading upstairs. Once in his room the Nara collapsed face down on his bed. It was 3 p.m. already and he was bored. Ino was out of town and Chōji was still at his summer job. With a sigh he reached for his phone and checked his messages. Nothing. Might as well send Itachi a heads up.

**Message Sent: 4:15 p.m.**

'Tachi, some investigator asking me ab u.

Thought u shud kno.

-Shikamaru

Satisfied he dropped his phone and closed his eyes. It only took a few moments for the device to vibrate and flash a little envelop on his screen with Itachi's name underneath it.

**Message Received: 4:17 p.m.**

Okay.

-Itachi

Shikamaru rolled his eyes, leave it to the silent Uchiha to do nothing more than send back his acknowledgement of the information. At least he knew for sure now, if he didn't before, that he was being watched.

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

The ring-chime-ring of Shikamaru's phone woke him several hours later. He raised his head groggily, blearily peering around until he landed on the too-bright screen of his phone. The sun was barely above the horizon now, orange light cascading into the quiet room as Shikamaru watched his phone continue to ring. With a groan he sat up, grabbed the thing and answered the call.

"What's up?"

"Finally answered Shikamaru." Came the stoic reply. Shikamaru smirked sleepily and yawned.

"Yep, what you need 'Tachi?" He fell back against the pillows after adjusting them to support him in a half sitting position.

"About that text earlier… I need more details." Ahh, so that was why there was such a vague response. Shikamaru thought a moment on the little information he could give him.

"Some Private Investigator named Hyūga was asking me about you at the station… I'm on house arrest and he's my probation officer. Except he's gonna be making visits. It's troublesome. He had photos of me getting in your car."

"Hmm… so not anything truly incriminating. Good. Why are you on house arrest?" Shikamaru snorted and rolled his eyes, scowling across his room.

"Punched my professor…" Silence then a faint chuckle.

"And I thought you weren't the confrontational type." Shikamaru smirked and shrugged to himself, eyes drifting to the window.

"Yeah, yeah… I won't be calling for anything. Heh. No money either and I'm stuck in this house."

"Hmm… I could come visit. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Huh?"

"Don't act like you won't miss me, Shika-kun." There was a scoff at the rarely used nickname. Itachi was taunting him. Shikamaru rolled his eyes.

"How long?"

"Four months…"

"Not too bad and it's better than jail."

"Yeah yeah… except now I'm stuck here and even I don't like being stuck in my house all the time."

Itachi chuckled again and said he'd visit soon before the connection died. Shikamaru yawned again, tossing his phone to the side and sliding from the bed to wander downstairs. He hated how empty the house felt, no sounds of movement and that constant… melancholy. As though a black hole was sucking everything that made a home feel like a home.

There were rice crackers in the pantry but Shikamaru bypassed those in favor of some wasabi flavored Doritos. They were a bright green that could be a turnoff to some but after the first bite they were addicting. The sharp spice of wasabi was mouthwatering. Chips in hand Shikamaru made his way to the sitting room and flipped on the television only to skip through channels. Nothing worth watching was really on so he stopped on the news and watched with mild disinterest as a weather reporter turned over screen-time to an older man with wild white hair and a perverted leer. He was supposed to be discussing the latest break-ins and theft and other such criminal activity but he kept venturing on tangents about women. Shikamaru snorted, Naruto's _nazukeoya_ was a work of art. He popped another green chip into his mouth and flipped some more channels.

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

The next morning, harsh sunlight burning against Shikamaru's eyelids woke him much too early for his liking. He groaned and threw an arm over his face to shield himself from the light. The crumple and crash of foil and many small things skittering across the floor brought to mind the bag of chips he was eating the night before.  
>"Troublesome." He groused before squinting down hatefully at the spilled bag of chips.<p>

At least Chōji wasn't here to murder him over wasting food. The Nara drug himself up to clean the mess and return what remained of the chips to the pantry. Afterward he checked the time, cursed the sunlight and took a long shower. Sleep wasn't happening, he was awake now and even laying stationary didn't bring the blissful unawareness it used to. So with nothing better to do, Shikamaru drug out his Shōgi board and began another game with himself. Even that failed to hold his attention and the roof became a haven to watch clouds until his stomach alerted him that it was time to eat. Another half-assed meal and Shikamaru was out of ideas. Reading could only occupy him for so long so when Chōji called telling him to sign onto Xbox Live he more than happily obliged. They played several rounds on a shooter with a rather extensive map before he was signed out and given a message to apply or renew his Gold Membership.

"What? " He seethed, attempting to sign in several times before he drug his laptop over and attempted to sign in online. He had an e-mail informing him the subscription was terminated and that left no questions as to who did the terminating. Shikamaru groaned and flopped back on his bed.

"Troublesome hag… now what am I supposed to do?"

.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

The next several days went by in much the same manner. Chōji called once during that time to see what was up and tell him he was out of town visiting relatives but he'd be back by the weekend and would definitely stop by soon. At least this gave Shikamaru something to look forward to. The rest of the time was filled with Shōgi, cloud watching, flipping through channels on the television he'd yet to turn off and finding other more 'constructive' things to do with his time.

His appetite diminished and sleep came harder. It was in one of those bouts of insomnia that he built the Roman Colosseum out of Rice Crackers. He was quite proud of himself for that one and glued it to a cardboard base he'd ripped from some box in the garage. It held it's on special place atop a table that used to have a lamp. The headaches came and went randomly, Shikamaru feared he may become addicted to the mild pain medication if they didn't stop soon.

He was on his Fifth Day of captivity and it was 'trash day'. There was never much waste to be taken out, but emptying ever bag of Rice Crackers in the pantry tended to add up… not to mention the two rolls of paper towels he'd wasted cleaning up spilled glue when his hands began to shake too badly to hold the container. Just dragging the light can to the side of the driveway had him in a sweat and itching at the bends of his arms. He kept thinking about it, constantly… always thinking about the weightless euphoria, the buzz the high… the delicious taste of opium against his tongue.

Shikamaru shook himself, scowling as he forced his hands to stop picking at his arms. He turned and wiped his brow of sweat at the same time a wet something collided with his back. The Nara froze and jerked around with feverish, narrowed eyes to see a young boy with brown hair and eyes glowering at him with a sneer on his lips. Shikamaru felt his fingers twitch and curl into fists as the boy stuck out his tongue. He was about to say something when two more balloons pelted him from opposite directions. Shikamaru cringed away from it, realizing they were filled with fucking _milk _instead of water.

The stupid punks leapt from the bushes, jeering as anger erupted through Shikamaru. He didn't have the patience for this shit and he lunged forward at the brown-haired kid just as the fucker turned to take off.

"Little bastard what the fuck is your problem!"

"HAHA! You can't get me! Stupid you can't leave your house! HAHA" Then he was off, a streak of bright yellow from his shirt and a blue scarf trailing out behind him.

His two accomplices sniggered before following after their 'leader'. Shikamaru froze before he could take another step, eyes darting down to his ankle where a red light was beeping before lurching backward into his driveway and hauling ass to his porch. He doubled over as he reached the wood, the blinking light safely back to green as he panted for breath.

"T-troublesome fuckers…" Shikamaru stood up, searching the street for a sign of Neji's car and when he saw none decided he made it in time.

Konohamaru was Asuma's nephew and the boy declared Shikamaru Public Enemy #1 when he got out of the hospital. The little boy wasn't old enough or just didn't care, that it wasn't Shikamaru who killed Asuma but the semi. Not that the Nara argued the fact with him because he blamed himself for the man's death and really, deep down, he didn't blame Konohamaru for his actions… he just wished they came in a less troublesome display.

The smell of milk wafted up his nose, causing it to wrinkle in distaste. With a grumble Shikamaru headed inside, already pulling the soiled clothes off and tossing them in the laundry before taking his second shower of the day. The first was taken as cleanup after his attempt to make pancakes resulted in a catastrophic mess. Apparently, though he couldn't shut his mind off to sleep neither could he stay focused without blanking out and wandering in some day-dream.

With his shower complete the Nara grabbed a pack of cigarettes and headed out his window to climb atop the roof. It was now his designated cloud watching spot, it offered the best view considering the house had two floors. The cigarette he sparked was a special blend imported from India and mixed cloves with the tobacco. They were the Djarm Black brand and mildly more expensive than the average cancer stick but the taste was definitely worth it. Shikamaru inhaled a lungful of smoke and exhaled slowly, allowing his eyes to shutter as he observed the neighborhood around him. People watching was a habit he developed over the last several days. It was almost amusing to watch the crazy things that happened right on his own street. Some of it was mildly embarrassing.

Next door, Danzo was strolling inside from collecting his mail. He wasn't very social and seemed locked in his own littler world. Across the street, Inoichi was returning home from work. His wife and Ino seemed to be the only two who left on vacation. Next to the Yamanaka household a man with silver hair was reclined on his porch reading erotica. Shikamaru knew he was a Professor at his old university but wasn't sure what subject he taught. He recalled seeing the bright orange book in the hallways. A few kids ran here and there, some a bit more boisterous than others but otherwise everything was as normal as boring suburbia could be.

Shikamaru was about to turn his eyes to the clouds when an abnormal sight caught his eye. A large moving truck was headed down the street, he could've disregarded it, had it not stopped in front of the house next to his. The Nara blinked lazily, observing as a tall young man with brown hair and tanned skin hopped out of the driver's seat and strolled around the back of the truck. Shortly after a white car pulled into the driveway and two people stepped out. Shikamaru felt his stomach lurch as he lay eyes on the sandy blonde woman who slid form the driver's seat and swayed over to the back of the moving truck with an alluring twist of hips. The cigarette stopped halfway to his mouth as he watched her move. Ohdamn but she was attractive. Shikamaru swallowed and turned his eyes to the other occupant of the car.

He almost jumped when his eyes came into contact with icy green. What the fuck? The asshole was just staring at Shikamaru. The Nara was slightly unnerved and scowled at the red haired teen who had a tattoo on his forehead. The male smirked after a moment and walked off when the woman's voice bellowed at him to come help move their shit.

Cigarette finished and no cloud watching complete, Shikamaru decided to call it a night and slipped back inside. Once there he plopped atop his bed and grabbed his phone. No messages but there was one missed call and a voice-mail. It was from Ino, teasing him about house arrest and asking if he was having fun before going off in some long-winded explanation about her vacation. He had to smirk at that , as annoying as she was the Yamanaka girl was endearing and Shikamaru shook his head as he ended the message.

"Troubleosome."

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>So the last chapter was complete shit so I wrote this one faster than usual... gonna try to have the next chapter up in a couple of days. Idk how long this is going to be.. original plan was 12 chapters but there's so much shit that needs to happen x_x

I'm also not certain if there is going to be a Shikamaru and Temari thing in here or just flirting and go with the original plan of a Shikamaru and Neji... or neither... idk yet :x depends on how the rest of the chapters turn out seeing as it's already deviating and reorganized from the outline I wrote heh ;0

Thanks for the subscriptions to this and the person who messaged about the story despite being unable to review 8D

**nazukeoya - **means godfather or godmother


	6. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Pairings: **Shikamaru x Itachi – again.

**Rating: **M/R

**Warnings: **Homosexuality, consumption of cannabis, violence, asshole-ish behavior.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong>

**Down the Rabbit Hole**

_Panting, moaning… so much heat. Bodies slapping together and sweat mixing with the scent of sex. _

Shikamaru jerked awake panting, sweaty and hard. The Nara groaned and rolled onto his back, hand running across the top of his head as he closed his eyes, shoving away the arousing dream that'd ended all too quickly. His other hand skimmed across the buldge in his boxers as he closed his eyes. Fuck but he was horny. It'd been too fuckin' long since he'd had sex and that pathetic excuse of a wet-dream was proof enough. Nothing that vague should've gotten him this hard. Absently fingers traced over the plaid boxers, the Nara half drowsing and allowing images to flash easily through his mind.

His stomach lurched, breaking his skin out in a cold sweat and raising goose bumps. With a groan Shikamaru doubled over in the fetal position, eyes squeezed shut as his stomach lurched and roiled again, sending bile up the back of his throat. He was up in a flash, rushing perhaps faster than he had in his life, to the bathroom where last night's snack emptied itself in the porcelain god. The headache was already creeping up the back of his head to throb steadily in the Nara's temples as he dry-heaved over the toilet. F

'_The fuck… was… that about…' _He groaned again, body still coated in the clammy sweat and legs quaking with the effort to support his weight. He felt _awful _and vomiting first thing in the morning wasn't helping matters. Flushing the disgusting contents Shikamaru stepped away from the toilet and into the next room where he turned the water on until it was steaming hot and began to strip down. His head was pounding and stomach still turning but there was nothing left to expel so he felt safe hopping into a quick shower… that turned into a rather long shower once the hot water hit his skin. Shikamaru groaned in pleasure, running fingers through his hair, sloshing liquid away from his face to splash loudly with the tiled tub.

Some thirty or more minutes later he stumbled from the water which had grown lukewarm during his extended use and reached for a towel to squeeze the moisture from his hair. It didn't do much, the humidity in the bathroom kept droplets clinging to his pink skin and hair. Opening the door released a cloud of vapor into the hallway and Shikamaru shivered at the temperature change. The Nara returned to his room at a leisurely pace, grabbing a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt and boxers to wear for a day of… not doing shit.

The chores were piling up but Shikamaru couldn't care less, he felt much too apathetic to do anything… nothing was holding his interest at all. The only thing that sounded appealing was making a piping mug of black coffee and retreating to the front porch to smoke a cigarette and watch the droll happenings of his neighborhood. Dragging himself from bed, Shikamaru headed downstairs to do just that. Flicking on the coffee machine and sliding a mug under the spout, dragging out a long yawn as blank eyes surveyed the sunny day.

'_Maybe there'll be some good clouds to watch… heh… maybe that chick next door will be outside too… but it'd be troublesome to talk to her.'_

Shikamaru smirked at his thoughts, mug full he proceeded to the comfy swing outside that sat close enough to the edge of the porch to provide a decent, if not mildly obstructed view of the sky. With a content sigh he sparked up and drew a lungful of air. The taste of smoke made him crave something much more pungent but the nicotine curbed a more mundane type of craving. A sip of coffee followed, the taste of cloves lingering on his tongue, adding a spice to the deep taste of coffee bean.

The moving truck was gone, although a few boxes were still stacked on his new neighbor's porch. He silently swore one of the packages wasn't a box at all but a stage and … was that a puppet? Gawd, had a house of freaks moved in? Shikamaru rocked to a stand, strolling down the sidewalk toward the paper tossed haphazardly into his driveway. Ugh, this was so much work. Such a long walk when his body felt so sluggish and his mind seemed to only register things at a fraction of the speed it should.

"Troublesome, why couldn't the stupid paperboy toss the damned thing closer to my house? Ugh.. such a long walk.."

He crouched, grabbed the paper and was proceeding back up his sidewalk when a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder. Shikamaru yelped in shock, paper falling from his hand as another small object collided harshly with his lower back. The Nara spun around , only to be pelted in the stomach, leg and the arm he raised to guard his face by the small round objects. He crouched after scanning the street, he had an idea who the fuck was behind this. Shikamaru observed the nut between thumb and forefinger, eyes narrowing.

"A fucking walnut! I'm gonna have goddamned bruises… troublesome idiot."

There was a bark of laughter and Shikamaru's head snapped up in time for another barrage of walnuts to assault his body. The mug crashed on the cement, cigarette dropped next to his foot as the Nara balled himself up to protect his face. When it stopped a livid anger erupted in his gut, migraine increased tenfold Shikamaru finally caught sight of his attackers.

"KONOHAMARU YOU FUCKING LITTLE BASTARD I'M GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOUR LITTLE TROUBLESOME ASS!"

The young Sarutobi boy was drawing back another projectile when Shikamaru began yelling and jumped in shock, the nut falling harmlessly to the ground. Eyes wide as saucers though he recovered quickly, blazing with indignation and tears pooling in the dark brown pools.

"OH YEAH! SO YOU GONNA KILL MY LIKE YOU DID ASUMA-OJISAN?"

Shikamaru jerked back as though Konohamaru physically struck him, eyes rounded as a wave of barely forgotten guilt washed through him, cramping his stomach. Fists balled at his side, Shikamaru pursed his lips, blinking back the feeling of a wound being ripped open before turning on his heel only to freeze once again.

Chocolate eyes locked with shocked teal that flipped between himself and Konohamaru. Guilt was washed away in a wave of utter humiliation that burned the Nara's cheeks as he jerked himself from paralysis and dashed inside, slamming the door tightly behind him.

From where she stood, Sabaku Temari observed the exchange between the kid and her neighbor. What did he mean by that? Surely that guy didn't really kill the kid's uncle? A scoffing sound from her left brought the sandy blonde from her reverie, glancing over her shoulder at the slightly taller brown-haired sibling. She quirked a brow.

"Problem Kankuro?" The male shrugged, eyes still watching the Nara house with blaring dislike.

"Nah, I thought that guy was a weirdo, neighbors on the other side say he doesn't leave his house or talk to anyone really. Said something 'bout him being on house arrest for attack a Professor or something."

Temari didn't really see where this was going so she offered an inquiring expression that Kankuro shrugged at, eyes darting down the street where Konohmaru was dashing off with Moegi and Udon calling after him.

"I don't like him is all… to think we'd move and end up living next to a psycho…" Temari stiffened at the word, eyes narrowing on Kankuro. She scoffed, always the skeptic.

"So you're just going to believe these rumors? Why not ask the guy yourself?" Kankuro snorted and looked at his sister as though she were crazy.

"Why don't you ask him? Wait… no, I don't want you around that guy, Temari… he's bad news." Temari rolled her eyes and waved her sibling off before heading back inside, newspaper in hand. Truthfully, she'd only come out because she heard yelling and getting the paper happened to be a workable excuse to eavesdrop. Not that she was one for gossip and spying, but it was a curious event in a supposedly _quiet _neighborhood.

From his place, safely inside, Shikamaru recounted the less than appealing first impression he made. _'Just fucking great… a gorgeous chick moves in and I make an ass of myself before she even meets me… then run like the coward I am inside. Real smart Shikamaru.' _ The lazy genius scolded himself fiercely, battling between shame and guilt wasn't good for one's appetite so he abandoned his pointless search for food in favor of taking another cigarette, this time on his fucking roof. At least here he was free of Konohamaru's pranks, free to muse on his own goddamned issues in peace while observing the vast sky.

He lay back, inhaling deeply on the smoke as he watched fluffy poufs crawl by in ever changing shapes across the vast expanse of sky. Even the serenity of cloud watching wasn't enough to carry his thoughts away, he kept replaying Konohamaru's broken expression and his neighbor's shocked, slightly horrified eyes. _'Really can't blame Konohamaru… it is my fault… I did kill Asuma… even if it was the other vehicle that hit us I was the driver. I should've paid more attention… they shouldn't have died… ugh it's all so troublesome I wish it would just stop. I don't want to feel anymore..' _

Shikamaru didn't want the pain and guilt anymore, didn't want that black hole that opened somewhere in his chest whenever he recalled 'Tousan or saw the gleam of disappoint in 'Kaasan's eyes. It was worse now, with all the extra wrinkles and gray hairs, the never ending medical bills and now all the money she was paying out because of his arrest. That disappointment turned into a wall of icy detachment whenever she looked at him, as though he were a stranger to her, something repulsive. Shikamaru bit his lip roughly, blinking back hot tears and taking another drag on his cigarette.

The remainder of the day passed in lethargy that shifted from his bed to the sofa where he stared at various television programs without really seeing them. Food remained untouched and any attempt to eat resulted in him being bent over the edge of the toilet again. On top of that his skin was practically crawling and a raw spot was beginning to form in the bend of his left arm. Whenever he realized he was picking at his arms and fidgeting, Shikamaru made a valiant effort to stop but returned as soon as his attention drifted. He mused on everything and nothing, thoughts whirring in a pointless cycle without hovering on one subject for too long. At some point he drifted into a light doze but jolted to the sounds of screams and crushing metal and shattered glass that haunted his dreams.

It was late, the sun long since fallen and the fuzzy feeling in his head refused to diminish. Groaning he rolled over and grabbed his phone, checking the missed call from Itachi before pressing the 'call-back' button. It rung twice before a smooth voice answered, Shikamaru felt a chill down his spine and smirked langorously.

"Itachi speaking."

"'Tachi, you called?" A long yawn followed the question that made the Uchiha smirk, typical Shikamaru.

"I was going to come over, if that is okay. Yoshino-san is out of town yes?" Shikamaru felt the first spark of interest for the day, immediately shuffling himself to a lounging position rather than prone on his stomach.  
>"Yeah, she is… when you comin?"<p>

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes? I have something I think you'll like, could make the night… interesting." Shikamaru's smirk grew, interesting and Itachi was always a good distraction.  
>"Okay, the door will be unlocked just let yourself in."<p>

"You really shouldn't leave your door unlocked, Shikamaru…" Was that worry? The Nara's brows shot upward.

"Really now, Itachi, you aren't _worried _about me are you?"

"I'm worried about someone robbing your lazy ass while you sleep." A snort of derision.

"Yeah whatever Uchiha, see you in fifteen."  
>"Make that ten." Shikamaru chuckled and the connection cut as the Nara stretched with another long yawn before trudging upstairs to his room to collapse face-down on his bed. He refused to outwardly project the pleased bubble of excitement in his stomach so he kept up the 'lazy ass' routine.<p>

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>**** Content Warning ****<strong>

.

.

The feeling of a hand firmly pinching his ass woke Shikamaru with a start, the Nara jerked his head up, eyes locking onto the Uchiha smirking above him. He chuckled, shaking his head and offering a crooked smile to the raven.

"Was groping really necessary 'Tachi?"

The Uchiha shrugged, not saying anything as he strolled across the room to raise a few of the windows. Shikamaru tracked the man with his eyes, the almost forgotten hunger from that morning rearing up in his gut. Itachi was a work of fucking art. He was graceful and ever calm, so controlled with a sort of easy disregard that could drive people insane. Generally, if Itachi put his mind to something he accomplished his goal without fail and often drawing expressions of awe. Tonight, he looked especially suave in a black button down shirt and pressed black slacks, the shoes were casual black leather but still nice none-the-less. The shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows and the first few buttons undone to reveal a strange necklace and the beginnings of a toned chest. The Nara licked his lips as he took in the sight. Some would say all black was distasteful or very 'gothic' in fashion terms, but Itachi carried it with a mysterious elegance that could send many an individual into a swoon.

Itachi turned, arching a fine brow at Shikamaru who turned a lazy smirk into something suggestive. He chuckled lowly as he paced across the room, he moved like a predator; precise, fluid… _fucking sexy. _The Uchiha bent down until his eyes drew level with Shikamaru's, a slender finger deftly tracing the younger male's cheek. A teasing, feather light touch.

"Don't be impatient, Shika-kun… we've got all night and I brought a surprise, as I said."

Shikamaru craned his head, looking much like an inquisitive animal as Itachi stepped away to draw the chair from the desk and take a seat. The smell of nutmeg, pine and rosewood wafted from the Uchiha as he stepped away. Shikamaru's nose was doing summersaults in joy at the mix. However, there also trailed a heavy, pungent scent that was barely discernible… was that… weed? Shikamaru sat up and scooted his way to the head of his bed, propping against a pillow and inhaling deeply again.

"Smells good." He purred with a grin.

"Hmm… the high will be even better, Shika-kun."

From his pocket the Uchiha withdrew a small container and uncapped it, immediately the area was coated with the smell of delicious, high-quality marijuana. Shikamaru was impressed, he hummed and nodded. The expression changing to a pleading one when Itachi withdrew a packaged cigarillo.

"'Tachi can I roll it? What strain is it anyway?" Itachi chuckled, left the cigarillo on the desk and stood, gesturing the Nara into his chair while he took the bed and watched the lazy genius at work.

"Help yourself, Shika-kun but don't mess up my blunt. I've only got two rillos." Shikamaru huffed as he flipped his laptop open and began searching through music. Rolling a blunt was always done best while listening to music, or it was more of a tradition at any rate.

"Tch, don't be troublesome. I roll beautiful blunts." The Nara smirked as Itachi rolled his eyes. The music started playing, the smooth mellow tones sang out in English filled the room. The typical Kottonmouth Kings to enjoy a good blunt too. The playlist didn't stop there, Itachi noted, it ran from KMK to Sublime, Cypress Hill to The Expendables. They weren't really popular in Japan but most smokers learned of the same groups who advocated and sang about their favorite girl; Mary-Jane.

"So about this weed…"

"It's called Blueberry Haze. Normally it's the wrong season but this was grown hydroponically and is an indica and sativa blend. It's supposed to taste like blueberries."

Shikamaru looked up at the information, seeming impressed as he carefully picked up a nug and sniffed it. Definitely a fruity scent there. The bud itself was a vibrant blue with bits of green and the glistening white sheen of THC crystals that almost made it look wet. Shikamaru's mouth was practically watering at the thought of smoking this shit. It stuck to his fingers as he broke it down into little balls and tossed the stems into an ashtray. Next came the rillo, a careful split for the guts to be scooped out and the weed inserted before the meditative process of rolling it all up began. The final lick sealed the deal as the Nara pulled the blunt between his lips and then sized it up with a smirk. A golf-club shape, oh yeah he was good. Fat on one in and tapering to a smaller, thinner section. Itachi chuckled humorously as he offered a box of matches. No point spoiling the taste with butane.

Shikamaru plopped down on the bed, making no attempt at subtlety as he reclined against Itachi. The bed was shoved against a wall which made for good support in their casual state. The Uchiha removed his shoes before neatly crossing his legs on the bed as Shikamaru lit up the blunt. The fire burned the end for a minute as he sucked in several quick, harsh gulps of air and the ember was rolling. He blew out the flame and took a long drag on the delicious substance, slowly exhaling with a few repressed coughs. The taste of blueberry lingered on his tongue, strong and delicious. The Nara hummed his approval before taking another drag.

"Delicious 'Tachi… I'm already buzzing, hehe." The Uchiha smirked as the Nara chuckled lightly, eyes drooping as they took on a glassy sheen.

"Looks like your tolerance has taken a blow, Shika-kun." He commented between puffs to which the Nara snorted derisively.

"Whatever." He plucked the blunt from ivory fingers and leaned in to deftly capture thin lips with a hum of delight. Itachi wasted no time in shoving his tongue into the other's mouth, savoring the taste of weed and lingering flavor of nicotine. They broke apart and Shikamaru took another long drag before passing it to Itachi. He did erupt into a fit of coughs this time, doubling forward. Itachi chuckled, running fingers along his lover's scalp and pulling the tie from his hair, sliding it over his wrist before returning to his ministrations. The man took his own hit before tapping Shikamaru's chin when the coughing fit ended.

"Here… lemme blow you one." The double meaning had Shikamaru smirking but he leaned in as Itachi blew ash off the tip and flipped the blunt backwards in his mouth, leaning forward and blowing a large stream of smoke into the waiting mouth.

Another coughing fit was fought down, turning Shikamaru's face a deep red and bringing tears to his eyes. Eventually he reclined back as the little remaining smoke was exhaled. Eyes now a flaming red and glassy Itachi smirked. There was a goofy, lopsided grin on the Nara's face that turned licentious before he twisted and shoved Itachi down on his back. The Uchiha wasn't really surprised as he propped himself on his elbows and took another puff as Shikamaru kissed a trail down his jaw and neck, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"Impatient aren't we, Shika-kun?" All he got in response was a grunt.

Buttons undone the shirt was tugged free of black slacks and the exposed skin assaulted with open mouthed kisses. Itachi hummed in appreciation as he raked fingers through the Nara's dark hair. Shikamaru sat back, resting on Itachi's hips and plucking the blunt from his fingers. By this point he was too high to really cough on the smoke, the shotgun killed him, so to speak. Itachi had other plans when Shikamaru leaned forward to capture his lips, grabbing the blunt and deftly rolling them over. Shikamaru groaned as the Uchiha rolled their hips together, bucking upward to increase the friction.

"Fuck, 'Tachi stop playing around…"

"So only you're allowed to tease? Hn." Shikamaru's shirt was shoved up to his armpits where he grunted and pulled it the rest of the way off. Itachi was already focusing on the Nara's nipples while one hand snaked down between them to roughly grope the other male, earning himself another pleasured groan. Juggling the blunt made their clash of heated kisses and heavy groping somewhat of a challenge, but neither was willing to drop it and when it was finally tossed into the ashtray the final garments of clothing were finally removed, releasing burning flesh to the cool air. Twin groans and grunts of pleasure quickly took over words and teasing.

.

.

****** Content End ******

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

Hyūga Neji was nothing if not thorough. His job was his life and he took it very seriously, as he was raised to do. To be the best at whatever he chose to be. Investigations were no exception to this, especially one of this caliber. Neji sought out Uchiha Itachi but he was only a piece of the puzzle, a very high-ranking piece that could very well serve Neji in locating the rest of the Akatsuki. They'd been tracking the group for years without much luck, all leads led to dead ends or a wild-goose chase. Itachi suspected foul play, that one way or another they had help from someone high up in the legal ladder. He had no proof but he wasn't known as a prodigal genius for nothing and he followed that gut instinct when someone just wasn't adding up.

Keeping with the spirit of things, the Private Investigator made sure to gather plenty of background intel on one Nara Shikamaru. Most of this required looking up his records, which displayed an average performance in school, up until his Senior year of Secondary School. A vehicle collision landed him in the hospital, but the Nara recovered and took the boards with approval from his teachers and managed to pass so he still graduated on time. Afterward he took the entrance exam for a local community college and was accepted. There his grades went from average to disastrous. Teachers had few to no comments about him, most only seemed to recall how incredibly lazy he was and his incessant sleeping in class. His medical records showed extensive surgery that had the Hyūga grimacing at the very idea of being 'put back together' by a doctor. There was also mention of his being assigned to a Psychiatrist but all of the files were locked as such information was confidential. The only available notes from Orochimaru expressed concern for the Nara's coping abilities and mentioned he ended the sessions without doctor consent. Not that it mattered after he laid out his Professor, he couldn't leave the house to attend them. Criminal history was relatively non-existent; there was a count of vandalism, which Neji himself arrested the teen for and then the assault on his Professor. All-in-all it didn't paint a very… decisive picture of Shikamaru.; which led Neji to a more in-depth investigation.

This investigation took the form of questioning the residents of Shikamaru's neighborhood, not all of them, just those within a close enough distance that they may have communicated with the teen. All of them said the same basic thing; he wasn't very social, seeming to prefer a small group of friends rather than large crowds. He kept to himself, was polite and could most commonly be seen at the local park cloud-watching or playing Shōgi. Neji was becoming frustrated, the kid was like a shadow. People knew him but didn't know anything about him other than what could be gleamed from casual observation.

Finally, a breakthrough presented itself in the form of Yuhi Kurenai, a woman formerly involved with Sarutobi Asuma. Apparently the two were due to be married before he died in the collision. She was heavily pregnant when he paid her a visit but seemed to be doing well for a woman who lost her lover. Yuhi-san gave Neji more in-depth information. She and Shikamaru were close, he recalled she bailed him out the last time he was arrested. She relayed that he was always rather laid-back, not really desiring to push himself in anything. Her reminiscing didn't change from the typical until after the accident. Yuhi-san expressed concern that Shikamaru blamed himself for his father and Asuma's death, saying he'd apologized to her for killing her husband. Ever since then he'd been more reclusive, even with his friends Akimichi and Yamanaka. They'd all three known each other since they were little but Shikamaru pulled away after the accident. Apparently, before his arrest, he'd taken to helping her however he could. Cutting the lawn, buying groceries, helping her clean and other such things.

After their meeting Neji returned to his office with his notes, completely exasperated. He was certain the kid was involved with Itachi… yet whenever he asked anyone about a suspicious man being seen around Shikamaru, none of them could recall anything. The only thing that matched up was that he'd occasionally have a visitor who drove a black car. The make and model never seemed to come up and when asked, the few who bothered looking at all didn't seem to know. From everything Neji collected, Shikamaru was the average fucking twenty year-old. He smoked cigarettes, didn't seem to party much and relaxed whenever he could. Fucking infuriating. There _had _to be something there, something that these idiots were missing. So Neji decided to pay Nara-kun a visit a day ahead of schedule.

The Hyūga pulled neatly into the driveway in his silver Nissan Skyline, cut the engine and stepped out. He glanced next door where a sandy blonde young woman was leaving her house and paused to stare at him a moment. She waved with a half-smile before hopping in her own car and pulling away. _'Must be new neighbors… might have to question them soon.' _Adjusting his tie and suit that practically screamed police, Neji made his way to the front door where he rang the doorbell… multiple times. Sure he had a key, but Neji was also keen on privacy. He wouldn't use the key to let himself in unless the door wasn't answered. He waited… and waited… rang the doorbell again, checked his watch and felt his patience wearing thing.

Just when he was ready to unlock the door himself it opened, revealing a very disheveled and sleepy Shikamaru. Neji raised a brow, had the kid just gotten out of bed? The Nara eyed Neji as though he may disappear if he refused to acknowledge him, the Hyūga smirked nodding at the door.

"May I come in?"

"Sure." Was the disgruntled reply and Shikamaru stepped out of the way.

Neji stepped through the door and took a moment to observe the entrance and then Shikamaru as the male turned to pad into the kitchen at a slothful pace. He wore a white t-shirt and gray sweats, his hair was down and looked messy and tangled. When Neji stepped closer, following him, the distinct smell of sex and slight pungent odor of marijuana followed after him. The Hyūga rolled his eyes, must've been a 'late night'. This brought a smirk to his lips.

"Late night Nara-kun? You look worse for wear." Shikamaru froze in his meander for the coffee machine to stare disinterestedly over his shoulder.

"Something like that… I think you're a day hearly Hyūga-san." The question was unasked but hung between them anyway, _why_? Neji took a seat, lacing his fingers atop the counter.

"I came to ask a few questions and check up on you, as I may be too busy tomorrow." Shikamaru snorted at that, skeptical how true it was.

"What kinda questions?"

"I think you know. Uchiha Itachi, you do know him. I checked up on your files, asked around. No one seems to notice anything out of the ordinary about you but I have photos and my own suspicions."

It wasn't a lie. Neji took another moment to observe his charge while he was distracted, noting that despite the obvious lethargy there was a subtle hint of agitation to his movements. Fingers occasionally brushing, rising to rub at his arm before stopping and returning to his side. When he finished speaking, Shikamaru turned to face him. Dark eyes lidded, glazed with fatigue but no less sharp; analyzing Neji a moment before he spoke.

"You think I'm involved with whatever you're investigating Itachi for?" Neji was yet again silently impressed by the Nara's deductive skills but took note of the casual use of Itachi's name. He cocked his head, offering a smirk.

"I think you know more than you're letting on, Nara-kun."

"Tch. You're so troublesome, I already told you Itachi is a friend."

Neji stared at him a moment, watching Shikamaru's eyes flicker off as though unable to hold eye contact while he took a sip of his coffee. The male looked almost pensive that way, leaning against the counter with a drowsy expression. Neji sighed, closing his eyes a moment before zeroing in on his target.

"You know, withholding information can be considered obstructive. It is quite the offense to obstruct an police investigation, Nara-kun. Perhaps you should think of how it would cost you, should evidence surface that you knew something vital but refused to tell me. I know you are a… friend of Uchiha's, but that does not matter when this… friendship is blocking my way in capturing a criminal."

Shikamaru tensed for a moment, a barely noticeable twitch in his jaw and shoulders. After a moment he yawned, the tension melting away from his body though agitation still remained.

"Criminal? Perhaps you should elaborate on what you're looking for."

Neji sat back, brows raised and a smirk carefully suppressed. So the kid was doing some fishing of his own? Well, he could give a little… to hopefully get a little in return. He chuckled, drawing those dark eyes back to his.

"Uchiha Itachi is suspected of involvement with Akatsuki, a very dangerous organization who traffic drugs, arms and even humans. He is wanted for counts of drug trafficking and is suspected of at least one murder, and involvement in others. He is a very dangerous man, Nara-kun, such men do not have… friends. They have connections while it is convenient for them. When that useful ness is gone, what then? What happens when the Uchiha turns on you, regardless of this friendship? What could you possibly be offering to him that is valuable enough for him to keep you close?"

There, that was it. That wariness was back, Neji could practically see Shikamaru analyzing the information he was just given. Weighing it in that lazy head of his. The Hyūga had to give it to the kid, he was definitely more intelligent than his school reflected. Perhaps the 'average' card was all a big ruse? They were playing a game now, one that could be dangerous for Shikamaru and land him a good bit of jail time. Was it really worth it to him? It made Neji wonder, what the hell the Uchiha did to gain the kid's silence.

"Perhaps you're not seeing the big picture… doing bad things doesn't necessarily make someone a bad person. I don't think Itachi is one to use people… he wouldn't need to. He's intelligent enough to get what he wants on his own."

Neji sat back, eyes widened marginally as that little piece of observation was delivered without sarcasm and their deadlock continued. Was he serious? After a moment the Hyūga chuckled, shaking his head.

"It hardly matters if he is a… good person, Nara-kun, which he probably isn't anyway. That is a naïve concept to throw at me. Good or bad doesn't matter. He broke the law and must suffer the consequences."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed and he looked away. Although in the brief moment before contact was lost, Neji was able to gleam a shocking amount of anger burning there. It almost unnerved him, to watch detachment flare so violently into well contained rage. The emotion didn't even show in the Nara's lazy posture.

"It should matter… otherwise you're no different than them. The people who kill without hesitation… who purposely hurt others. Itachi isn't bad… dangerous… but not bad."

Neji craned his head in confusion, his black and white view of the world not fitting in with this new concept being presented to him.

"Emotions and personal motive do not justify breaking the law. It is there for a reason, to protect the many from the few." Shikamaru's knuckles were blanched white with the grip he had on the mug.

"Emotions and motive are everything. Without them the actions wouldn't even occur. If we all functioned on logic then laws wouldn't be needed. It is emotion that drives action. Greed, power, desperation, guilt, honesty, fear… they are motivators. Itachi has never hurt me or anyone I know so what he's done in the past is inconsequential."

Those black eyes were on Neji, strange he could've sworn they were a warm brown. The anger dyed them darker in fury so well contained it was daunting. As was this philosophical conversation on human nature.

"I won't play your stupid games, Hyūga-san. Give me a valid reason why I should sell out a friend and I'll tell you everything I know, but I'm not convinced. You want Itachi so you can get Akatsuki… you want to_ use _him for your own means."

Neji grinned now, it wasn't nice or friendly but neither was this conversation. He was impressed and pissed though it hardly showed save for in the ice hardening his eyes. Shikamaru must've caught this for his posture stiffened and he looked away once more, breaking eye-contact.

"So you do know something you're withholding?"

"Do I? All you would need is an address or a list of people I've seen him with, ne? That's what you want after all, information and any would help you."

Neji was rigid in his anger, he stood stalking slowly and gracefully closer to the Nara. The scant few inches separating their height might as well have been feet with the way Shikamaru leaned back, trapped between the counter and an angry Hyūga. Neji's senses were invaded with the smell of marijuana and sex, so close he could practically taste it. That anger slid away, replaced with a sneer.

"Just because someone fucks you, Nara-kun, doesn't mean they care about you."

Shikamaru's eyes rounded in shock, flashing with hurt and anger. Pretenses were forgotten as he shoved Neji away from him with his shoulder, barely managing to leave the mug atop the counter as he stepped forward.

"You're a low bastard, Hyūga. Just because you lack the ability for compassion doesn't make everyone else a heartless fiend. What's it to you who I fuck? Or are you just looking for another promotion? Greedy for more titles and decorations for the proud Hyūga name?"

Neji was the one to be shocked now, as though he'd been slapped as he took a step back from the rage oozing from the young man in front of him. His shoulders tensed, chin raising as he restrained the urge to knock the stupid kid out.

"I seek to clean up the streets. To bring justice to those who defy the law and profit from evil deeds."

His eyes fell to the raw bruise in the bend of Shikamaru's arm, as though making a point to his statement. The Nara's eyes followed and the appendage twitched, as though forcing himself to keep from tucking it out of sight. Without a word he turned and stalked from the room, rage seeming forgotten in place of something else that hollowed his eyes. Neji followed his movement, watched as he vanished up the stairs before hefting a sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose.

'_What the fuck are you doing Neji? You're supposed to be a professional… not dropping to low-blows just to get a response and hope some form of insight comes with it. Stupid fucking Nara, why the hell did he work me up so much?' _With a grunt Neji discarded his thoughts in favor of leaving. The door was closed and staying would be equal to asking for a fight. So he bowed out with what little grace he retained and decided he'd mull over this information later, with a clearer head.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>Some tension between Neji and Shikamaru... hehe 8] this will probably develop slowly. For the moment they've both got some intense thoughts to muse on.

Review pleas and feel free to point out any errors as this chapter has yet to be proof-read.


End file.
